Yazar: analsex

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

23rd September

Hullo, Mark!

It’s been such a stressful week. Missus Jones of Accounting was, as usual, trying to gossip about me behind my back to the staff (It’s a good thing she hasn’t heard of the concept of “Volume Control”, the things she was trying to say were vile), and Mister Parfitt is, as usual, a handsy boss I need three arms to fend off (Don’t worry, sweetie, you know I’m skilled with my hands.) With that, and the workload, I’ve really been missing you, halfway across the country as you are. Wishing you well with the new job, honey!

Still, I should have more accurately said it was a stressful week, because I’ve found the most darling little place! A massage parlour, run by a lady who insists I call her Jackie (Miz Wilcox.) The price is very cheap, and the massages… Oh, Mark, when you come down next, you have to try it! I could feel my muscles relaxing under Jackie’s skilled hands, and I saw other customers coming out who had the same kind of look I had (so blissful), so that’s even more evidence of customer satisfaction to my mind!

There was one oddity, though… About halfway through the massage, I heard some kind of groan nearby, but it definitely didn’t sound like Miz Wilcox. She reassured me that it was just some sort of noise in the plumbing, but it didn’t, not really… It kind of sounded like you, to be honest, just before…

…But enough about reminiscing (teehee), the place is wonderful, and I plan to be a regular!

Wishing you well, love!

Tara

30th September

Hallo Darling!

Well, another two visits to Miz Wilcox’s parlour, and this time, she suggested adding some scented oils into the mix. No extra charge, so, naturally, I leapt at the chance (you know how I love my bath bombs!) She chose a lovely mint and rose mix, and she applied it nice and thickly as she worked it in. Well, obviously, I was worried about the towel, but she reassured me the onsite laundry was first class, so I just kicked back and enjoyed myself… Mmm, such skillful hands. I’m not going to lie, darling, I somehow felt not only less stressed, but leaner, too, everyone at work said so too (Which… Well, it was flattering… And Missus Jones’ glare was amusing indeed!)

Their plumbing does need some attention, though… I heard that groaning again, only longer, while my back was being squeezed under the towel, and it’s a testament to her firm hands that I felt some of that oil squish along my back… It was quite the unique feeling, actually, just like Miz Wilcox’s massages.

I’m really glad to hear the foreman’s been so pleased with your work, I’ve always admired those strong arms of yours… Especially when they’re wrapped around me! Hope you get a holiday soon, I’ve still got those fluffy handcuffs!

Love you loads!

Tara

Diary, 7th October

Well, I don’t particularly feel like writing about this to Mark, so it’s up to you, Diary, to take this one for the team.

Yesterday, I went for my usual massage (Lavender scent this time), and, even while Jackie was kneading it in, spreading it all over, I was getting very aroused. I’m not normally into girls (Oh, I’ve had crushes, certainly, but… Not sexually), but I’ll be a little more vulgar than I usually am with folks, and say that, at that moment, with Jackie rubbing my breasts, I thought I’d fuck anything that made itself available.

And then Jackie asked me if I was alright, with a sly grin, and… Oh, I could have died from embarassment, diary! And she obviously noticed that too, because she got up on the massage table, and started really going at my breasts! Well, I didn’t demur, because Jackie is an attractive woman, one of those matronly, plump ladies with short curly hair, and, as I’ve said, I was very horny… I tried to reach down to play with myself, as I do when I miss Mark, but she stopped me, and said “You seem like a lady who prefers a good dick, so you stay right there… And spread those lovely legs for me, and I’ll give you a good substitute.”

I had real trouble waiting, diary… And, to be fair, even then, my fussiness made me worry about ruining her nice giresun escort massage table with how wet I was getting (Silly thought, if I’m getting scented oil over it every time!) But it wasn’t too long before she came back, buck naked, and with a short strapon! She certainly picked it well, it looked a little like Mark’s… And then…

Ohhh, it was so good! She laid herself between my spread legs, and I almost took that towel off so I could feel all of her, but she stopped me again. “I think you’ll like how it feels”, she said, and do you know, she was right! I spread myself for her as she pushed her breasts on mine (I swear, I almost came there and then!) and she entered me gently, more gently than Mark does, to be sure. I was already moaning, and I didn’t care who heard, and then she picked up the pace, stroking my oiled ass, and before too long, we were both holding each other, my legs wrapped around her as she pounded me, moaning into my ear as I moaned into hers, that towel rubbing back and forth as we fucked.

And then the plumbing groaned again, and that almost ruined the mood, but Jackie moaned louder in my ear (Probably as much to cover the noise as get me back in the mood), and I came all over that plastic dick. We just lay there, panting for a few minutes (it was animal passion, diary!) , and then she chuckled a little as she pulled herself off me.

“Whoops, guess we got that towel all oily… I’ll go get a new one!” And she whipped off the towel, quickly rubbed my tummy a bit (I shuddered with pleasure), and, once she got a towel back, it was straight to work, her strapon stashed away, as if nothing had happened.

Still, that groaning really doesn’t sound like the plumbing, diary, but Jackie’s convinced it is, and I can’t seem to sway her. And there was something else odd: A moment before she rubbed my tummy with that towel, it looked like there was a white stain there.

Ah, must be missing Mark a lot, to be imagining that sort of thing!

21st October

Hullo Darling!

Glad to hear you got that promotion, it’s really good to see you going up in the world! Still, I can’t say I’m not a little annoyed that it means you have less holiday, what with those new responsibilities, but here’s hoping!

Meanwhile, the stress of work is… Well, I’m handling it so much better now, and I have that massage parlour to thank for it! I don’t know whether it’s the massage, or encouraging me in my diet, or what, but everyone except Missus Jones and Mister Parfitt like the new me, and some have even joined me in visits to the massage parlour (Oh no, Mark, not together… I know how your wonderfully dirty mind works!) They’re complimenting me on how lean and toned I look (You’ll enjoy it, Mark, now I’ve got thighs to match your arms, which’ll make our bedroom tussles all the more exciting), with, as mentioned, the exception of Missus Jones (Who’s a little afraid of me now. Good, she’s a terrible old bag) and Mister Parfitt (Who was, briefly, very open with me that he “doesn’t like women with muscles.” Definitely good, I found fending off his advances very irritating!)

The latest thing is she’s giving me some sort of cranial massage too… At first I was a little worried, as she’s got some very strong hands, but she reassured me that she was very careful, and… It felt good! The plumbing’s still got its problems there, but otherwise the ambience is good, Jackie is very skilled, and…

Oh, enough of that… Been thinking about you, hon, looking through our photo album… You know the one.

Come back soon, love,

Tara

21st October

Diary, I’m honestly a little grateful that Mark hasn’t got any holidays coming up, because, once those holidays come up, I’ll probably have to cut off my fling with Jackie, for fear of getting caught.

Still, we’ve fucked a lot, Diary. At first, it was just on the massage table, but she’s been introducing me to all sorts of positions, and I’m sure part of the reason I’m so toned is because she’s been giving me quite the workout, all oiled up in that lavender scent yalova escort that seems to make me so horny. I’ve been loving all of it… Wrapping my legs around her as she fucks me on the table, being pushed against the wall to take that strapon of hers in my pussy (or my ass, she’s been expanding my horizons quite a lot!), feeling my breasts slip and slide up the wall (How does it feel so good all over when she’s fucking me? If it weren’t for the fact I’m married, I’d probably run away with her, the sex is so good.) Even being held, my breasts played with as firmly as my pussy, feels amazing (Yes, okay, Diary, that one is pretty obviously arousing, you know I’ve played with myself that way a lot)

There’s only really been two rough spots, and I wouldn’t really call one of them more than an oddity. Oddity first: Turns out Jackie really likes it when I’ve got a towel somewhere on me, preferably between us, but that’s, honestly, probably in the realm of some obscure kink or something, and to be honest, those towels are very nice, so I don’t particularly mind.

No, the other one was perhaps the only argument we’ve gotten in. I’d been going to the shower, to wash off (in?) those oils and get changed, when I definitely heard groans coming from a nearby door. Well, it was open, so I peeked in, and four of the staff, three women and one man, were playing with themselves, but with the towels. Rubbing them into their pussies, using them as cumrags… And, as it turned out, they’d been quite busy, because while it was obviously meant to be a towel room, there were about six or seven towels strewn on the floor, absolutely damp (Heaven knows how they’d managed to cum that many times.) Adding to my irritation, the plumbing was particularly loud in that towel room, and let me tell you, it really does sound like someone cumming, or at least groaning out an orgasm like these four were!

They didn’t spot me for a minute or two, but once they did, one of the women, the one who was jerking off, leapt up and, with a cheeky grin (I certainly felt cheeked!), slammed the door shut, and they obviously hadn’t stopped because they’d been caught in the act, judging by the noises!

Well, obviously, I was shocked, so I went straight back to Jackie. And, do you know, she completely dismissed it! “Oh yes, since our cleaning facilities are so good, we’ve got a certain… Allowance for the staff… To help keep the floors clean, you know. Such horny beggars!”

It took her a while to talk me down, and, to be honest, I’m still a little angry. But, to her credit, the way she talked me down was inventive. She simply leaned in once I’d taken a breath to start off again, and told me, in no uncertain terms, what we’d be doing next time I visited.

I’m glad it’s the weekend, Diary, because I confess, the reason I delayed a day or two to write in you was that I was absorbed in thinking about it (and, obviously, masturbating quite furiously… Oh, Jackie gave me one of her vibrators… I might have to cut things off earlier than Mark’s holiday, whenever he has it, because I’ve gotten into the habit of calling her name, rather than Mark’s, when I’m thrusting that lovely gift inside me!)

31st October

Hullo Mark!

Well, this is certainly going to be an odd letter, Mark! It’s a shame you didn’t get a holiday before this, as I’ll be quite tied up from now on, for reasons you’ll understand before I’m done. It’s also the reason the handwriting is different, as Jackie’s doing the transcribing for me (Such a caring woman!)

Still, no point in procrastinating, so let’s get into what happened.

At first, it was like any other massage. I was oiled up with a lovely lavender scent, I got all wet in more ways than one, and Jackie and I fucked (Oh, yes, we’re fucking, and have been for a while. Kind of pointless to hide it, now.) Mark, she’s quite talented, and she’s introduced me to anal, so that was what we did, her fucking my tight ass as she pinned me to the massage table, pushing her tits into mine as she played with one of mine (She’s quite strong, she pinned yozgat escort both my wrists with one hand, and if it weren’t for events transpiring as they did, I’m sure I wouldn’t be able to sit down for a few hours!)

And then she started, and something happened that explained everything. Those moans (and they were moans, not the plumbing), the staff playing with the towels (Oh, yes, I didn’t tell you about that: You can check my diary, since you already have the keys to the place), and Jackie’s odd kink of wanting a towel between us when we fuck.

As she kneaded my body, my neck… Pushing hard at my sore ass, and thighs… I started sort of… Spreading out… I can’t really describe it any other way… She’d picked a particularly wide massage table this time, and, as I got thinner, and wider, and wetter, I understood why. This may come across as some sort of horror story, Mark (I am aware of the date, after all), but it felt so good… I mean, fucking Jackie felt pretty hot and heavy (Alas, Mark, she’s a far better fuck than you), but, as she kneaded me, pushed me down and around and outward, I swear, I came a whole bunch! Well, by the time I’d been all flattened out (I can see, and, apparently, every one of the towels can see, and feel, even though they look… Well, like towels!), I’d cummed several times, and I was a very wet towel indeed… But it wasn’t over there.

The staff came in, after that, all naked, and Jackie, well, she was already stripped off. I was so horny, I was actually aroused at this (Jackie’s been really good at introducing me to new horizons, Mark, and so have the rest of the staff here… Hehe) And Jackie lifted me up, folded me, and rubbed me along her pussy as the rest of her staff watched. And, in between the moans, both mine and hers, she told me how it was going to be from now on.

“Tara, you’ve been such a good partner, and I’ve really enjoyed fucking you. Still, while I want to fuck you more, and I will, I’m a good manager, and my staff have needs too… So you’re going to be shared, one by one, among them, and we’re all going to stain you with our cum… Rub you up and down us, round us (And you’re already almost there at the thought, aren’t you? I knew I picked well, you beautiful, kinky girl you) … And then we’re going to show you what being put in the wash, in the dryer feels like. You’ll have even more partners at once then, all the other kinky girls and boys, rubbing you up, tumbling together, sliding across each other… And then, of course, we’ll lay you across some of our customers, in on the joke when we think one’ll make a good addition to our towel store, cumming when we rub you into that oil, all over their backs and tummies… And we’ll always have a staff member to please you more before the wash. Isn’t that nice?”

Well, they’re about to put me in the wash, but, the way they’ve explained it to me, I’m going to have a fun, kinky time, for a long time, and, sorry, Mark, after consultation with Jackie, you’re not invited!

Tataaaaaa!

Tara

31st October

Hello Diary, it’s Jackie here. Funny, I’m reading Tara’s diary now that she’s here (Couldn’t resist a little bit of petty larceny, considering what I’m going to say next), and I’m really glad I’ve been such a good partner. I almost laughed when she dictated that letter to me, but still, I did want to give her human form a rousing send off, and in that, I definitely succeeded! I didn’t have the heart to tell her her ass would still feel sore for a few hours, and I honestly don’t think she’ll notice until she’s in the wash. Oh, well, another apology, I guess, although I enjoy those, too.

Still, while I’m normally a selfish, horny woman, I have to admit, after going through her purse, that I did some unintended charity. She’d gotten a letter back from her paramour, but hadn’t opened it yet, and, whoopsie… Looks like he neglected to tell poor Tara that his boss was a woman, and had been fucking her on the sly, just like I’ve been fucking Tara… Turns out he was going to file a divorce, and… Well, I’ve saved everyone a lot of time and a fair amount of heartbreak and recrimination. Well done, me!

…Now, obviously, just like the others, I’m not actually going to send that letter, just keep it with the others, my little memento slash masturbation material… But I can’t say I wasn’t tempted.

After all, it would knock him flat, what with me giving her such wide experience in a rather lean timeframe!

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

This is a third chapter for the tale of Larya’s and Lim’s lamia troubles. I hope you enjoy!

Content notice: This story is written from an afab woman’s perspective, and contains nonconsensual mind control, demon girl cock, and a lot of wrapping up in coils. Also, mewling, begging, being overwhelmed with pleasure, being turned into a happy, slutty catgirl, and pretty blue bows.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Lim pouted and stomped her foot. Of course Larya was missing for their first date in months. And of course it had to be the one Lim had gotten all dressed up for.

The catgirl looked around, chewing her upper lip. The Mirror Pools gave her the heebie-jeebies sometimes, and this was definitely one of those times. She’d heard stories of young lovers getting lost in these woods, beautiful people getting lost in their own reflections, catgirls luring lovely hairdressers off into dens of eternal teasing bliss.

Forgetting herself a little, Lim giggled, tail twitching mischievously. That last one, in fairness, had been a story she’d told—to the very flustered hairdresser who had done such a good job and been promised such a lovely tip.

She couldn’t wait to find Larya. Edging and flustering the hairdresser had been adorable, but nobody whimpered and begged like her love.

She swished idly in her flowing dress as she made her way back toward the clearing from earlier. She’d been sosure she’d heard something back here, after all.

She needed Larya to see her like this. Larya was such a darling sub, and Lim loved to bring her down to the level she longed to lie in—barely a step above the horniest, neediest lust sprite, squealing and whining as she stared up at Lim’s wiggling ass, stuck proudly up in the air while Lim licked and licked and…

She needed to see the look on Larya’s face when Larya saw how sexy Lim looked right now, in her pretty pink dress, with her fiery-red hair done up in such a lavish goblin bouffant, her face so delicately made up to highlight her cute freckles and glimmering green eyes, the adorable bow atop her head complementing her flicking kitty ears, the way her pink dress swished and glimmered in the starlight, hugging her curvy ass and pushing out her breasts for maximum cleavage.

Lim was drop-dead gorgeous on a bad day. On a good night, she was a temptress from heaven, liquid desire poured into a pretty pink dress with a pretty blue bow on top.

And Lim was positive that this was going to be a very, very good night as soon as she found Larya. Larya would agree, once Lim made her.

“Larya!” she called, rolling her eyes as she stepped into the clearing. She was turning up her hearing now, and she was so sure that she could hear something moving up ahead. “Larya Nuptuel! Honestly, love, if you’ve gotten your silly head filled with sugar before I got to taste—oh!”

As she’d walked beneath a tree branch, the branch had snagged her bow. Hissing under her breath, the catgirl turned and started fighting with the branch. The blue bow’s ribbons trailed beneath it, rustling in a subtle breeze.

And then Lim heard it.

A sibilant sound from behind her. Almost like a slithering body. Or a serpent’s hiss.

Or laughter.

“Hello?” Lim turned and looked around, ears flattened. The clearing was empty, though. There was something by the pool—it looked like a pool of water, before Lim realized it was a ‘pool’ of fine silken material.

Her eyes narrowed. A dress, discarded. “Someone there?” she called.

There was no answer. Noticing the wind picking up, Lim turned and reached for—

Gone. It was gone. Lim blinked rapidly. Okay, this is weird. Her ears were flatteneding.

“Larya,” Lim called tersely, “if you’re a good girl, you’ll—”

She heard another sound, this one less a hiss and more a… moan.

And some wet squelching sounds came with it.

“Larya?” Lim crouched low, suddenly wary. She approached the fallen dress, looking over her shoulder. “Is that… you? Because I don’t reckon this is very fun—eep!”

She’d turned back in front of her and realized she was about to run right into someone.

Inches from her face, a very pretty face broke into a wide, amused smile.

ItThe face was that of a gorgeous woman, with big, brilliant blue-green eyes and full, plump red lips. Her hair was a deep lusty crimson.

Those eyes were beautiful. Lim felt her breath leave her as she stared, open-mouthed. This was not Larya. Not even Larya had eyes… that… pretty. So pretty…

Lim’s mouth snapped shut. Her eyes darted away from the woman’s eyes and down her body, noticing, with a quickening heart, the woman’s full, massive bosom, clad in just a strip of red cloth.

She smelled nice. Lim’s mind wasn’t quite working right—it was still stuck on pretty girl very close—but she smelled… nice. Lim found herself breathing in deep, trying to place that sweet scent that filled her, made her briefly erzurum escort lose her senses.

Her eyes flitted lower, and she saw that past the bare midriff and the beginning of a wide set of spoon-hips were red scales. The lamia’s tail arced up into the air and into the treetops—this lamia was hanging down in front of Lim, dangling like a stray vine.

Lim had never seen a lamia like this before. She blinked, trying to recover her composure, and leaned back—she had walked very close to the other fey. “H-Hi,” she said, feeling strangely breathless.

The lamia smirked. “Hi, there,” she purred. “And what would a sssalaciousssly dressed kitty like you be doing out among the Mirror Pools ssso late at night?”

Salacious. Lim resisted the urge to look down self-consciously at her own outfit, but she felt her cheeks heating up nevertheless. She struck a playful pose, bobbing her weight from foot to foot—and her hips from side to side—and smiled brightly. “I’m Lim, lovely,” she chirped. “And who might you be?”

The lamia raised an eyebrow. “Call me Celessste,” she said softly. Lim heard a soft sound from up above, but as she started to look up, the lamia shifted—more heavy looping coils slipping down to allow her more mobility—and Lim’s attention was drawn back to her. “But myquessstion, darling kitty?”

Lim smirked. “Why?” she ventured, leaning back in—letting her breasts push out slightly against the fabric, enjoying the way Celeste’s eyes briefly glanced down to admire her. “Am I intruding on something, Celeste?”

She held in a giggle, watching Celeste’s eyes flit from her figure to her eyes. Such pretty eyes. So full of desire. Lim could tell that Celeste was the submissive type—Lim could have her wrapped around her finger in minutes.

“I was only wondering what you were looking for,” Celeste murmured, “sssince you ssseemed to be looking for sssomething.” A perfect eyebrow raised. “Or… sssomeone?”

Lim licked her lips.

Celeste leaned in closer. Her eyes shimmered like galaxies unto their own. “Or perhapsss,” she breathed, “this kitty is merely… lossst?”

A forked tongue tickled Lim’s cheek. Lim giggled before she could help herself. “I’m, um… ummmm… looking for someone, actually. Not lost.” She bit her lip to hold in more giggles as Celeste’s tongues… tongues?… continued to play along her jawline and neck. All the while, Celeste watched her, smiling smugly. Knowingly.

Briefly, Lim thought she heard another sound from above—a wet sound, followed by a familiar whimper. A wet, squishy sound. A submissive, needy whimper.

“Oh?” Celeste purred. “Is that sssooooo?”

Lim blinked rapidly. Despite being as nicely dressed as Lim had ever been, Lim felt a little… exposed.

Naked.

She took a deep breath of scented air and smiled, trying to project more of that flirty, dominant confidence. She was a domme. Celeste would soon know that.

Although… a pang of guilt tickled at Lim’s heart. Larya was still waiting for her. It would be simply awful if she were to stand her darling druidess up.

But this unbearably close to Celeste, Lim was having trouble convincing herself that it would be so bad to be… a little… late…

She decided to compromise. She reached up, putting a finger to her lips. “See, I’m trying to find this friend of mine,” she said sultrily, watching Celeste’s attention flick to those ruby-red lips, plump and kissable. Lips that had on more than one occasion rendered Larya little more than a lovestruck, love-dumb little slut for her kitty girlfriend. “Maybe you’ve, um, seen her? Long, dark hair…” She bounced slightly and giggled. “Slim, bimbo body, pretty green eyes, and… suuuuper easy to mess with.”

“Oh?” Celeste tilted her head to the side, eyes sparkling. Subconsciously, Lim tilted, too, to keep the same perspective as Celeste. To maintain eye contact. “And what might we call a girl like that?”

Her eyes glimmered so prettily. And Lim, thinking of Larya… of Larya’s body, her supple form, her sweet whines and moans that felt so familiar, Lim could almost make them out even now.

“Slut!” Lim cooed, giggling.

Celeste slowly smiled.

And Lim realized Celeste was just asking for Larya’s name, and her cheeks flushed. … “L-Larya,” the catgirl stammered, feeling her cheeks burning. “I-I mean. Have you seen her?”

Celeste seemed to consider this a moment. Lim waited, tapping her foot.

When Celeste continued to consider, Lim started, as most catgirls would, to get impatient. She leaned in close, trying to affect the special husky, smoky tone of voice that always rendered her targets stammering, blushing messes. “If it would help jog your memory,” she whispered, “we can—”

Again, she heard a moan. This time she pulled up, scowling around her. “Okay, what is that?”

“Is what?” Celeste blinked innocently. eskişehir escort Lim was surprised at how dizzy she felt when the eyes she’d been staring into blinked like that.

“That—those sounds!” Lim shook her head irritably. “I can definitely hear—”

“I don’t hear anything.” Celeste giggled, reaching forward.

Lim was resolute. “Well, I definitely—ee!” Celeste had cupped her under the chin, and for some reason, the tender touch sent shivers through Lim’s body. She felt her breath escape her as she stared into Celeste’s eyes, and suddenly, it was just sooo awfully hard to remember what she’d… been… saying… “I m-mean,” she stammered, “like, um, like… it’s, um… the sounds…”

She heard another soft whimper from above. Squishing sounds.

“What sssoundsss?” Celeste whispered, leaning in.

“Th-Those sounds,” Lim whined, feeling uncertainty flickering in her heart. She didn’t look up this time. She couldn’t. She was too busy looking at Celeste, and it wouldn’t do to be rude.

Wouldn’t do… to be rude… and take her eyes off of Celeste’s, Lim thought, staring vacantly ahead. Especially when the eyes were so, so pretty and… and sparkly…

“Don’t worry about it, sssweetnesss,” Celeste cooed, her fingers tickling under Lim’s chin. “Not important.”

“N… Not…” Lim’s lips were half-parted. The catgirl squirmed uncertainly, staring into Celeste’s beautiful, swirling eyes. She heard the moan again, but this time, knowing Celeste would just dismiss her again, she didn’t speak.

Speaking was hard. Kitties didn’t need to speak. Kitties just needed… needed to…

Lim gasped as Celeste’s tickling became a bit more sensuous, fingertips brushing Lim’s cheek, grazing over her parted, plump, sensitive lips… oh, that touch felt so nice.

“It’sss much more important,” the lamia purred, smiling as her hypnotic spiral-eyes drew Lim deeper and deeper, drowned Lim sweeter and sweeter, “to ssstay here with me… and be… a gooooood, ssslutty kitty.”

“Ssstay…” Lim slurred, feeling so heavy, so sleepy. Luckily she could hear more coils slipping down, approaching her. They would help her stand. Or lie down. Either way. “Ssstay… slutty kitty…” Her words echoed back to her, and she bit her lip. “I-I mean… no, wait…”

“That’sss right!” Celeste beamed. She started to sway gently, swinging in front of Lim as warm, scaly coils brushed the back of Lim’s ankle. Swinging like a pendulum. Back and forth. Back and forth. “Juuussst ssstay my sssleepy, sssilly, sssssslutty kitty. Sssoundsss nice, yesss?”

Lim squirmed and whimpered. She could still hear the moans from above—if anything, they were getting louder—but it was all so distant. Celeste’s voice was close. Her words filled Lim’s head as if nothing else could fit.

Nothing except, maybe, those endless, intoxicating, entrancing swirls in Celeste’s pretty eyes.

“Nice.” She nodded meekly, feeling so lovely and soft and submissive to do so. So lovely and… and soft… and…

Submissive?

Sourness at the thought flared inside Lim, and with exhausting effort, she tore her gaze from Celeste’s and down to the ground. Noticing she was slowly being approached those coils, she leaped backward, out of reach.

She glared at Celeste’s tail, not daring to meet those eyes again. “Nice try!” she snapped.

“Aw.” Celeste was pouting, Lim could tell. “I sssuppose that’s okay. I don’t truly need a kittytoy, after all.” Out of the corner of her eye, Lim could tell the swirls had faded, but she still didn’t dare to look. “You were sssimply too adorable toressssissst.”

“Hmph.” Lim couldn’t help a smirk at this as she backed out of the clearing. She’d been in control, essentially, all along, she told herself. The lamia had just played dirty. “Maybe next time I can show you just how hard to resist I can be.” She turned to leave. “Doesn’t that sound – eep!”

She recoiled back, eyes wide, heart rising to her throat in sudden alarm at the object that had slipped behind her.

Then she blinked.

And, unable to help it, giggled.

“Goodness,” she said sweetly, licking her lips, tail flicking behind her, “and what might you be doing up there?”

Hanging upside-down from the treetops, wrapped feet to shoulders in writhing red coils, was a gorgeous human woman. She had long, dark hair that trailed down below her head like a waterfall of darkness, and though the serpentine coils seemed to be holding her very tightly—all Lim could see, in fact, were her breasts, which were being caressed and fondled while still remaining visible, and her face, contorted in an agony of ecstasy.

Lim licked her lips and smiled as Larya struggled to respond, whimpering and moaning as wet sounds from within the coils constantly interrupted her.

“Sssooo…” Celeste purred, and Lim could hear the smile in her voice gaziantep escort as the serpent woman advanced, “… this is the ssslut you ssspoke of.”

Lim almost bit her lip, suddenly conscious that she had called her girlfriend a slut to a third party—and while Larya could hear, too.

But Larya didn’t seem to care. She just beamed in helpless bliss, eyes wide and swirling with spirals. The druidess was totally, helplessly, adorable hypnotized once again.

“So,” Lim said sultrily, admiring the display as her girlfriend wriggled and writhed, “this is where you’ve been. Falling for another lamia, are we, love?”

Larya squirmed as the coils stroked and massaged her. She stared happily across at Lim, her eyes shining in an overjoyed trance. “Uh-huh,” she slurred.

Lim’s grin widened. She shot Celeste a sly look. “Isn’t she cute?”

Celeste smirked. “Oh, yesss.”

This seemed to unsettle Larya. She wriggled a bit harder, beaming down at Lim. “I’m… n-not cute,” she protested, giggling as Lim reached over and tickled around an exposed nipple. “I’m… like… soooo in control…”

Her eyelids fluttered, but did not close, as she writhed and moaned. She was totally, utterly helpless.

“Is that so?” Lim cooed. She reached over and put a hand on Celeste’s shoulder, stroking the lamia’s hair playfully. “In control of this pretty serpent? In control of me?”

“Yes!” Larya’shead bobbed eagerly. “I’m… like, Lim, I’m, like, totally a domme now. I mean, I was. I am. Always was.” She bit her lip, staring uncertainly as her eyes swirled and spiraled and spun and sparkled, as empty as her silly head.

Lim could melt that resolve into butter with a lick. But she wanted to enjoy this, now that she’d found her pretty prey. Larya was going to have to pay her back for being late, after all. She leaned in, continuing to smile. “You’re in control?” she purred. “You mean you wanted this, sweetness?”

“Um…” Larya frowned slightly, or clearly tried to. But she was still smiling. Still squirming. “I mean, like… I m-mean… ooh…” She shivered. “Yes?”

Lim giggled. She leaned in closer, holding Larya’s spiraling, swirling, totally lost eyes in hers. She vaguely noticed Celeste pulling away, and her hand slipped from stroking the lamia’s hair to between her own legs, idly toying with herself through the fabric of her dress. “Really? So you mean…” She licked her lips. “You wanted to be caught and turned into this dumb, horny slut?”

Larya whimpered. Her eyes swirled so beautifully. Lim stared, full of love, into those helpless eyes. Helpless for her. Helpless for anyone who wanted pleasure. Swinging endlessly back and forth, slow, gentle arcs, like the pendulum of an impossibly slow clock.

“That’sss right,” Celeste purred, coming up to whisper in Larya’s ear. “You wanted this, didn’t you, ssslut?”

“Ye… yes…”

“Wanted to feel good.” As Celeste’s words dripped like honey into her ears, Lim stroked a little faster, biting her lip. “Wanted to feel ssso, sssoooo… gooooood…”

“Yes!” Larya whined. Lim’s breath caught at her helplessness—totally enrapt by mere whispers, totally lost in Lim’s gaze. Those eyes were so pretty and submissive. So pretty. So pretty. Lim was panting, barely resisting the intense, burning need to just thrust her fingers up her dress and… and… “Yes, yes, yes! I wanted to feel gooood!”

Lim beamed. She was inches from Larya now, and those eyes filled Larya’s vision as she watched the druidess sway. “And do you?” she asked silkily. “Do you feel good now, sweetness?”

“Uh-huh!” Larya whimpered, nodding eagerly. “F-feel… s-so good…”

She had to be getting lightheaded by now, Lim thought, smirking, noticing how her gentle swaying was starting to speed up. Back and forth. Back and forth. Lim swayed with it, refusing to allow Larya to escape her eyes for even a second. Refusing to let Larya’s spiraling eyes leave hers.

“That’s right,” Celeste hissed. “Ssssoooo good. Doesn’t it feel ssso good… to jussst… sssway…”

Larya bit her lip.

“Yes,” Lim whispered, grinning, head bobbing slightly as she reinforced the suggestion. “It does. Feels… sooo good. Just sway back and forth and sink. Sink. Sink.”

“Yes,” Larya whimpered, her eyes as wide as saucers of warm, rippling milk. “Yes, yes, it feels good. So good to sink, m-my love… so good… to obey…”

“Nice and safe,” Celeste went on, as her coils caressed and stroked over Larya’s whole body, and Lim watched the druidess’s form squish and contort within the warm, pulsating coils. “You know you’re nice and sssafe with us. You can relax.”

“Relax,” Lim purred, swaying to the left in time with Larya. “Safe. Nice and warm and content.”

“Content,” Larya breathed. “Obedient. Warm and safe.” Her expression was so deliciously submissive, it was all Lim could do to keep… keep…

The catgirl bit her lip as she barely forced her hand away from herself. Doing so, she felt suddenly dizzy. She needed pleasure so badly, and it was hard to think about anything with Larya’s gorgeous, perfectly obedient body swinging before her.

“Swirly,” Larya breathed, and Lim realized dimly that Celeste had said something else. “So… so easy to stare into the pretty swirly eyes…”

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“We have everything we need?” Alex asked the women assembled at the table in front of him.

“Yeah, hon. Just need to make a quick stop by the station before we head off. Need to pick up a few items that I ordered,” Korsa told him.

Alex smiled at the big woman, thinking how it was a bit odd, being called ‘hon’ by a woman much older than he was. To be fair, though, despite her age of seventy-six years old, she was considered a young woman among her people. Khontarans were one of the few long-lived species in the galaxy, the eldest among them just over seven hundred years old. He supposed that when you lived that long, there were some mindsets that just stuck.

He looked at the woman, who had recently become his lover and girlfriend, and smiled. Though Korsa often came across as aloof, clinical and sometimes even cold, beneath that tough as nails exterior, was a kind, loving and compassionate woman. Alex smirked at the thought of how aggressive and demanding she could be in bed. He also liked how she could flip between tomboy and girlie girl at a whim.

“What?” Korsa asked, when she noticed him staring.

“Nothing,” Alex replied as he took a quick look over at the villa, making sure that he missed nothing.

“Come on. I know something’s up. Spill,” Korsa demanded.

“The only thing that’s up right now is this,” Alex told her as he knocked her to her ass.

She yipped as she plopped down on the chair behind her, but was then silenced with Alex’s lips pressing to hers. Korsa moaned happily and kissed her boyfriend back, pulling him into her. Growling ferally, Alex broke away from Korsa, knowing that if he kept going, he’d be sporting a massive boner that would take a while to go away.

“You tease!” Korsa huffed as she fanned herself before standing up.

“Just letting you in on a preview of things to come later,” he told the big woman. Korsa smiled widely as she shouldered the last of her things before following Alex out of the villa.

“The journey to Prodosia is well over forty hours from here. One night with you, all to myself,” Korsa told him. “In my bed.”

“Something wrong with mine?” Alex queried.

“Yeah. It’s too small,” she told him, while fixing him with a look.

“I’ll have to remedy that when we get to another station. Preferably one that has mattresses sized for you,” Alex smiled.

“I appreciate that!” Korsa sighed as they ambled over to where the Darkstrider was parked. The pair walked up the ramp, as they were the last ones to make it aboard.

“Took you two long enough! The cleanup go as planned?” Natalya asked as she walked over to the pair.

“Yup! All evidence of who we are has been scrubbed away and we’ve left nothing behind,” Korsa informed Natalya.

“Good! Hate to leave anything behind for anyone who’s curious about who we are and what we’re up to,” the woman stated.

“Indeed! Speaking of which, Jaesa, you are certain that you recorded everything that was found in the caves the Ooantahl were guarding?” Alex questioned.

“Affirmative, sir! Though I didn’t have the time necessary to decode it all, as there are a lot of writings and murals to comb through,” the AI answered.

“How long would it take you to go through everything, code and catalog it, so we can read it whenever we like?” Kasumi wondered.

“I would require at least a standard galactic week to go through everything and another week to properly code and catalog everything that’s there,” Jaesa replied.

“There’s that much data in the caves?” Korsa asked, her eyes going wide at the length of time it would take the AI to do as she was asked.

“Easily that much! There were other areas that were below the caves the Ooantahl were guarding!” Jaesa informed the crew.

“Wait, there’s a bigger cave network down there?” Korsa asked.

“Did you try to go down there?” Alex queried, curious about the new network of caves.

“The Ooantahl warned going down there was certain death and discouraged me from going down,” Jaesa replied.

“Did they say exactly lay down there?” Kasumi wondered.

“No, but that what lay below was something that only a Star Strider could overcome. I sent in a recon drone to try getting some scans,” Jaesa told the crew.

“What did you find?” Natalya asked, both terrified and excited about what could lay in the dark below.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? What do you mean, nothing?” Alex questioned.

“The drone I sent in was cut off almost instantly. There was no transmission, no readings, there was nothing!” Jaesa stated, shaking her head in bewilderment.

“There’s obviously something down there, but it’s something that is cut off from the rest of the universe,” Alex surmised.

“Any idea what it could be?” Natalya wondered.

“It could be any number of things; a giant beast, some dark from of Aether, a defensive form of it. The possibilities are endless! But we won’t truly know until we go down there,” Korsa stated.

“The Ooantahl said that only Star Striders could go down tekirdağ escort there?” Alex questioned.

“They did. Corvaillen said that what is in there is a mystery, even to the Ooantahl. They were forbidden from going inside,” Korsa iterated.

“Sounds like we’re going to have to make a return trip to this place!” Alex replied.

“Damn it, mama! Why did you have to tell us these things?? Now I REALLY want to know what’s down there!” Natalya griped.

“I tried going in. Something held me back,” Korsa told them.

“Wait, you tried going inside this area?” Kasumi yipped.

“I did. Something invisible prevented me from even getting near the veil. It was as though a force field was in place to keep me out,” Korsa replied.

“Did Corvaillen say anything about it?” Alex wondered.

“He did. He said it will only allow me passage when I am ready,” Korsa told them.

“When you’re ready? Ready for what?” Natalya queried.

“I suppose we’ll know when we come back. Or when we’ve learned enough about the Aether and grown proficient in its use,” Korsa guessed.

“Sounds about right. Makes me wonder why the drone could go in, but you weren’t,” Alex mused.

“Corvaillen was able to answer that. He told me that living beings are not permitted. Machines can go in, but they don’t come back out,” Jaesa replied to Korsa.

“Wait, so, in theory, you would be able to go in?” Kasumi questioned.

“I believe so, but I wouldn’t be able to come back out,” Jaesa reminded them.

“Looks like we’ll have to try going down there when we get back,” Alex stated, moving along to the bridge.

“These Star Striders were a secretive lot,” Shazza humphed.

“If you had unlocked secrets of the galaxy and the power of the universe itself, isn’t that information you’d want to keep secret?” Korsa reminded her charge.

“I suppose I would. Just sucks that we won’t know anything about it until later,” Shazza griped.

“Life isn’t about the destination, Shazza. It’s about the journey you take to get there,” Alex told her as the lot of them climbed aboard the elevator. It took them to the first deck, and they got off, heading to where Inari and Priya were busy guiding the ship to be clear of Veldhern’s atmosphere.

“Oh, and I wanted to thank you for the additional storage towers you purchased, Commodore. It helps with storing all the data we have gleaned from the caves on Veldhern. There are zottabytes upon zottabytes to comb through!” Jaesa told Alex.

“You’re welcome, Jaesa. Remember, one of those towers is for you to store any backups you have for your systems,” Alex told the AI.

“Again, thank you, sir! I do hope that what we find will be of use to you and the ladies aboard,” she said to him.

“I’m sure it will. Be sure to also get a full and detailed analysis of how these drives are made and what materials are used in their construction. Though they may be considered inferior to what we have aboard the Perseus, there may be some pieces of tech or advancements that could make what we have better,” Alex stated.

“Will do, sir!” Jaesa replied, smiling at the big man. “I can already say with absolute certainty that said idea will yield some promising data!”

“You guys done yammering? Because we’ve just cleared Veldhern’s atmosphere and are coming in to dock,” Inari called out, informing the crew.

“How long before we’ve docked at the station?” Alex asked.

“Maybe ten minutes, sir. I’d suggest that you and everyone who’s going aboard get dressed and prepare to debark in that time frame,” Inari informed him.

“Copy that,” Alex said. “Well, ladies? You heard the captain.”

Almost instantly, the rest of the crew dispersed to their cabins to get changed. Though Alex didn’t mind the skimpy attire that some of them wore, he was certain that they wouldn’t be taken seriously. Especially if they were prancing around the station wearing thong or slingshot bikinis.

Alex had the foresight to get fully dressed, as he had some business on the station. Mostly for a few novelty items and some liquor he’d grown fond of. There was this one that was made with some of the more exotic fruits that grew on Veldhern. It was much like a brandy, but sweeter, and if you weren’t careful, you’d find yourself stone cold drunk before you knew it.

He also had something he wished to gift to Ana Williams for her help and discretion in keeping their mission secret. It was a bottle of Sljivovice, which was Croatian brandy made from ripe plums. He remembered the day that he was introduced to this drink from his heritage by some friends of his at the academy. ‘Sweet as wine, but strong as vodka,’ his friend had told him.

Alex sighed, as he missed those days, but he had known enough to live them up while he had them. Yesterday had already happened and tomorrow wasn’t a guarantee. All you have is today, so make the most of it for as long as you can. He smiled in remembrance as he glanced out the viewport tokat escort on the bridge and noticed the bustling activity on the salvage crews.

The salvage boys hadn’t been idle and were still busy collecting every piece of scrap they could find. They had their hands full, as there was a literal swamp of floating debris out there. They had cleared away the ships first, after marines had stormed the ships and overpowered the remaining pirates. It wasn’t a tough fight, as the pirates were ill-equipped to repel boarding actions.

Once the pirates had been incarcerated, the derelict ships were towed to the docks and given the most basic of repairs. They didn’t have to be pretty, but they had to fly and have a functioning hyperdrive. Every ship that could be saved was being saved and sent to UCW shipyards in the Ryktalian system.

From what Alex had learned of that system, there was a habitable planet there and some resources in some of the planets, but not much else. The world there, Ryktalian Prime, was still being terraformed, but there were some colonists there already. Mostly people who wanted to live on the frontier and away from the heavily populated core worlds.

Alex could scarcely blame them, as Earth was becoming overcrowded by the time he left all those centuries ago. He kept watching the crews puttering about, collecting every piece of scrap they could find. The salvage crews had even removed the crashed destroyer, Cerberus, from Veldhern, which was impressive. Despite the impact and damage it had sustained, they could still save it, which left Alex shaking his head.

He would have seen about cannibalizing the ship to retrofit one of the other, more damaged destroyers that was still flying. Alex half expected Ana to make such a call, but her authority was overruled by the time she got around to deciding the ship’s fate. Less than two days ago, the First Veldhern Defense Fleet had arrived, having received the distress call from the station.

The First Defense Fleet was impressive, as its flagship was a full on dreadnought. Sure, it wasn’t anything on the Perseus, but it fully outclassed the battlecruisers of the Second and Third fleets. Rear Admiral Kantori wasn’t pleased to hear about the turn of events that happened in his absence. From what Alex had heard, the man was furious, but he was glad to see that the fleets still held Veldhern.

He supposed it would anger any commander to hear of such deceptions, loss of life and equipment. The admiral acknowledged that events could have turned out far worse, and for that, he was thankful. Alex wondered what would happen, now that the First Fleet was here. He tucked away these thoughts and headed for the galley to fix himself a cup of coffee, as he hadn’t had one yet.

*****

Rear Admiral Lamkhar Kantori stood by the viewport in the secured meeting room, surveying the salvage efforts. He sighed heavily as he watched the crews working, as he preferred they were not needed at all. But this was real life and real life often had a way of disappointing. He turned back to the people assembled in the room with him, knowing they all looked to him in this time of crisis.

The Naucturi man stood tall, nearly six feet in height, and he had a decent musculature that added to his imposing demeanor. His skin was a deep green, like a forest, but his eyes were a vibrant blue. His earthblood red hair, like most Naucturi, was coarse, but he kept it well groomed, as was proper for a man of his station. It wasn’t his appearance that commanded respect, but his sheer presence.

Commodore Williams, Administrator Dohbalan, Captain Fitch, most of their aides and relevant personnel were there. The coup to overthrow UCW control over the Veldhern system and her fleets had rattled them all, even him. Though they were off in drydock, waiting on refits and repairs to the First Fleet, they, too, had their share of saboteurs. They weren’t as numerous as those in the Second and Third fleets, but it was enough.

Kantori remembered being awakened by several soldiers who had warned him of the attack, only for them to be gunned down in front of his eyes. He’d known those men since he’d taken the post as commander of the First Fleet, and they were good men. It was a shame to have to send them to the next life so soon. They all had good careers ahead of them and would have gone far had it not been for the Collective.

The Naucturi man growled at the thought of the loose coalition of extremists and businessmen. They often stayed in the shadows, keeping out the direct line of fire, but this was a whole new level. Them subverting security and planting agents here at Veldhern?!? It defied belief, but recent events told him otherwise. With his face set in a grim look, he addressed the leadership of the station and the fleets.

“So, everything in the reports is confirmed?” the man questioned, his bass voice catching everyone’s attention.

“Yes, sir!” Williams replied.

“So, trabzon escort please tell me why the crew of the Darkstrider hasn’t been detained and the ship itself impounded,” Kantori growled.

“With all due respect, sir, accomplishing such a feat would not only be miraculous, it would also be underhanded. Especially considering the fact that it’s because of this crew we’re still here today, and not in the brig, while the Collective runs the station and the planet,” Ana fired at him.

“Regardless of their help, the advantage we could gain…” Kantori pressed.

“Pardon me, sir, but go piss up a rope!” Lieutenant Commander Hardick interrupted.

“Excuse me?!?” Kantori barked.

“I did not stutter, admiral sir. I said, ‘Go piss up a rope!’ These people not only saved our asses from being gunned down, but they were also gracious enough to help with the mop up afterwards. Besides, I have seen them fight in combat firsthand. You want to try your hand at taking them down? I know I wouldn’t! Especially Alexander Tomisic or that Khontaran woman, Korsa!” Hardick told him.

“The Lieutenant Commander makes a point, admiral. Besides, you’ve seen the security footage of what they are capable of, even without firearms,” Fitch stated, while crossing his arms.

“Defensive posturing!” Kantori snapped, trying to wave off the raw power at the crew’s command.

“After I witnessed what Miss Shazza did to those pirates, I’m inclined to disagree. Unless you think what she did to those men was an impressive show of illusions,” Dohbalan scoffed.

Kantori huffed in annoyance, but he had to concede that point. He had never seen such a display of mystical energy before, unless you counted what he witnessed the Ooantahl do. The man shuddered in remembrance of what the avian species could do when riled into a fight. He was not eager to see a repeat of the event, especially if he or his own men were seen as the enemy.

“Fine! You make a fair point of the matter. I haven’t forgotten about what I saw happen to the Sshka’talth Crime Syndicate. Especially with what happened to Captain Skah’tari and his unit when they tried to… subdue the Ooantahl. If their power is that considerable, then having them as adversaries would be detrimental to the UCW,” Kantori admitted.

“Which is a sensible position to have. Especially since we have already cultivated them as allies,” Ana stated with a sigh.

“And you there,” Kantori called out, singling out the Lieutenant Commander. “You’ve got a real pair of balls on you. Keep that up.”

“Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!” Hardick saluted.

“Since you’ve taken the time to cultivate such relationships, Williams, how do you propose we proceed with the situation?” the admiral questioned.

“We are already working on such procedures. The ships that are being sent to drydock will be repaired and refitted with the new weapons, while we work to upgrade the First Fleet here. With a good measure of luck, we should be able to get the fleets back to one hundred percent before another attack comes,” Williams stated.

“Yes, but Saubath escaped with several ships bearing this new prototype pulsar weapon. It won’t be long before we lose that advantage,” Kantori lamented.

“That’s where the crew of the Darkstrider would come in. They do have additional tech that could be of use to us, considering how advanced the frigate is,” Graham Williams piped up.

“Yes, but the discretionary funds to purchase such upgrades are depleted. I know we’ve requested more funding for more tech purchases, but I’m afraid that we won’t get the funding before they leave,” the admiral stated.

“We appealed to their better nature, which wound up netting us some additional tech upgrades in the process,” Graham iterated.

“Oh? How so?”

“If you’ll turn your gaze over the holo, sir,” Graham stated as he brought the newly upgraded schematics into place.

The Lt. Commander could do nothing but smile and shake his head, as what Natalya and Jaesa had done to the guns and shield system was nothing short of miraculous! They had not only increased the power of the station’s cannons and shields, but they’d also increased their efficiency! With these new upgrades, they not only had more of a punch behind their weapons, they would use less power.

“Now this is… impressive!” Rear Admiral Kantori admitted.

“Indeed! Knowing that everyone aboard the station will be adequately protected is something that I can safely say, we can take comfort in,” Dohbalan stated.

“I agree. So, what do you recommend we do concerning the fleet, though? I mean, high command agreed to send us what ships they have to reinforce the third fleet. But it won’t be enough, not if our ship to ship capabilities are hampered,” Lamkhar Kantori told everyone there.

“I have already been devising a solution to that problem. Using the upgrades that Miss Vostrikov and Miss Harkness have given us, I’ve been working on scaling them down to where these new systems could be mounted on a ship,” Graham told to admiral.

“And? What results have you yielded?” the Naucturi officer questioned.

“Initial reports and tests look promising, but I’m having trouble with scaling these ideas and models down. I hate to say it, but these ladies have probably forgotten more about engineering than I currently know,” Graham admitted.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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My name is Sam Jenkins, and strange things are happening. Let me start at the beginning.

As I pass older buildings on my habitual walks around the City of New York, I always lookup. I am a devotee of architecture; that’s my geekdom. My neighborhood contains many small brownstones built between 1870 -1910. Some of the buildings are undistinguished, but a few are splendid in their diversity with unusual cornices, columns, or figural applications.

One building nearby has a recessed Juliet balcony with a small dog statue waiting for its master to return from the Spanish American War. Not far away from the dog statue, a building entrance has a splendid staircase with statues of ancient Mayan Gods. My building was once an Actor’s Hotel. Its construction is sedate, but the exterior is clad with glazed white bricks that glisten when the sun hits them. An antique timepiece, visible in old photographs, was stripped from the facade many years ago, but there are still four separate staircases inside. I don’t know why? I can only imagine theater people rushing to be on stage required the extra stairs to avoid falling over one another.

Looking up has its advantages. I imagine most people paid little attention, but one night I saw a strange light beaming from a distant star that illuminated a relatively plain building down the street.

The next day I walked to the edifice to see if there was anything of interest causing that midnight glow. I could see an attractive young woman sitting on the balcony, one story up from the busy New York street. Her long graceful legs were carelessly strewn over the balcony’s iron bars, and I could see she was without panties. Anyone passing below would have noticed. She had a tight blouse with cutouts over her shoulders and a great set of tits. I love tits, but I wasn’t looking for them at that moment. What she freely revealed was a pleasant surprise!

I took out my I-phone and snapped a quick photo; with a simple enlargement back in my apartment, every detail of her bare vagina came into focus. I was fascinated with the labia lips that resembled the wings of a Monarch butterfly.

Although I lived on the other side of the same street; my quiet apartment faced the back. I had no window from which to view the young lady’s sunbathing, but I frequently passed on the street, and on several occasions, I saw her entering or exiting her building.

On the street, I could see she was an attractive young woman. Her long dark hair was tied back in a ponytail. She was tall, with full-sized boobs and a slender waist. I was already familiar with what was under her skirt as I had memorized every detail of her shaved vagina. The blow-up was mounted on the kitchen refrigerator, held in place by a magnetic purple eggplant and some plastic grapes. Slightly harder to see in the photo was what appeared to be a beauty mark, just left of her clitoris.

I was curious to meet her and perhaps sample what I’d seen so exquisitely revealed in the enlargement, and I was trying to figure out how to go about it.

When the Voter Registration woman came around, I asked for an extra copy of the questionnaire, thinking I might ring the girl’s doorbell and make-believe I was a Registrar. That fantasy sank like a lead balloon when I realized it was a federal offense to impersonate.

I knew I had to bide my time. As Ming Foo, the Chinese Sage said in the year 1103,

“All things come to the one who waits.”

I’m not sure he was talking about ‘pussy,’ but that was most likely as the legend says he became a hermit after the love of his life refused to have sex.

Luckily, a few weeks later I caught up with her in the little coffee bar directly across the street from her apartment building. I stood quietly behind her admiring her plump ass pressing against her tight blue jeans as she ordered a fancy coffee with caramel. It was too confusing to remember the coffee selection’s exact name or ingredients, but it took damn near forever for the barista to assemble it, which gave me the cushion of time I needed.

While waiting behind her, I leaned closer, smiled, and asked, “How long have you lived in our neighborhood? And are you happy here?”.

“Why don’t you mind your own fucking business,” she replied.

The comment düzce escort destroyed all the backstories I’d prepared to share with her. I shut my mouth.

Two weeks later, I came home at about 10:30 at night when I saw a damsel in distress. A burly homeless man in a long brown coat was trying to pull her handbag away and, at the same time, dragging her toward an outdoor staircase that led down to the landing of a basement apartment.

I didn’t know who the assaulted woman was, but I knew if the homeless guy successfully steered her down the stairs, her encounter would not have had a pretty ending.

Like a fool, I charged in and grabbed the black handbag away while kicking the off-guard homey in the nuts. I quickly dragged the victim away from what might have been a worse fate. I was hoping I’d disabled the attacker before he could come after both of us. I rushed her away from the stairs, fearing she might fall. By now, I had recognized her. She was the shaved pussy girl.

I’d seen an older homeless man down there with a young drug dealer only a few days before. While the dealer was lighting his client’s crack-infused cigarette, the old guy was busy jerking off the dealer. I thought that mutuality was a novel approach to drug dealing! When the young guy shot his load, he looked up, saw me, and reached down, waving his cock at me. I imagine that was a form of advertising.

I walked her across the street as I knew precisely where she lived,

“Who are you,” she said, trembling on the concrete steps that led up to the entrance foyer of her brownstone building.

“I’m the guy you told to fuck off two weeks ago in the coffee shop.”

“Jesus, I’m sorry. You were a real hero tonight, thanks.”

“No biggie, I knew you were a local as I’d seen you out on your balcony a few times.”

“Yeah, my gynecologist says I should take an hour off when the weather is warm to air out my privates. The humidity causes me problems. You know, lady stuff.”

I was surprised that she would admit such a thing.

“Yeah, me too. After seeing your magnificent vagina, I couldn’t sleep that night. I hope you don’t find my remarks offensive because I’d cut off my nuts if you did, well, maybe just one of them.”

She laughed, a delightful musical laugh.

“No need to do that, a guy without balls is useless.”

“Yeah, you got that right.”

“Anyway, nice to meet you.” I turned to go. “Oh, can I ask your name?”

“My name is Pansy Parker. I’m a twenty-two-year-old New Yorker transplanted from Boise, Idaho.”

“I don’t mean to pry.”

“I don’t mind. There is no need for you to run away, come up to my apartment. I don’t have anything to hide from you, and I’ll make you an herbal tea.”

“Ok, if it is not too much of a disturbance?”

Maybe things were going my way for once. We climbed up to the first level in about ten seconds. She was in front of me, and I must say her ass was as perfect as her vagina unless it was tattooed, which I hoped it was not. She was wearing tight white slacks, but all I could see in my mind’s eye was her beautiful vagina as if the front of her jeans were cut out, which they were not.

She stopped in front of her apartment door, where a bouquet of pretty flowers was painted.

“Those are blue…”

“Pansies, yes, as I told you, that is my name.”

“Hello Pansy, how do you do? I’m so pleased to meet you.”

“Now you are exaggerating.”

She reached into her ruffled blouse, pulled out a key on the end of a string, and placed it in the lock.”

“I keep the key around my neck so I can’t lose it.”

“You know it’s a good thing you are a girl. Otherwise, your name would get you in trouble.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that. But bullying is supposed to be going out of style.”

“From your hips, I mean lips, from your lips to God’s ears.”

As the door lock unclicked and opened, floral air filled the hallway. It smelled like the garden of Eden.

“Jesus, it smells good in here,” I said as I walked into the tiny studio apartment.”

“Jesus had nothing to do with it,” Pansy remarked.

As I looked around, I saw that the apartment walls were covered with watercolors painted on thick edirne escort absorbent paper, haphazardly taped to the walls.

“This, I imagine, is your work.”

She didn’t respond.

I dropped my heavy coat on an empty chair.

“Is this ok?”

“Sure, put it anywhere.”

“Thanks.”

“Can I make you a pot of organic tea?”

She moved off to the side of the room with a small cooking area. She poured some mineral water from a plastic bottle into a teapot while I busied myself admiring her art that covered every crack in the old apartment’s wall. There were paintings of the neighborhood stores and buildings in bold colors. The skies were alive with swirls of cerulean blue, almost van Gogh-like. Weird yellow street lamps illuminated night scenes. I was amused by several illustrations of cartoon dogs walked by their nude owners on long strings, sometimes bending over and cleaning up after them. I wasn’t quite sure who was cleaning up after whom.

While we waited for the water to boil, she went behind a folding screen, took off her street clothes, and changed into a yellow bathrobe.

“My parents were avid Swedish nudists,” she said as if everyone’s parents were. She had a slight accent, but it did not sound Swedish.

“I was born over there and dragged to nudist colonies from the time I was a young child before I even knew what penises were for, but I learned early on there are as many varieties of cocks as there are noses.”

Her mention of cocks perked up my ears.

“If you want to disrobe, go for it,” Pansy said.

“If I had one of those twelve-inch cocks you see at nudist clubs, I’d do so in a minute. Unfortunately for you, I am a modest cocksman.”

“From experience, I prefer a modest proportion,” she responded.

“I imagine a twelve-inch cock would ruin that beautiful pussy of yours?”

“Well, no one says you have to enjoy every inch on the first date.”

That comment shut me up. What did I know?

For those moments, I was alone as she went to make this famous tea. I became aware that the apartment was hot, as many old New York apartments are, and I began to unbutton my shirt. Then Pansy paraded in with a fancy earth-colored Asian teapot.

“It’s organic herbal, no sugar unless you want it.”

“I take it straight,” and I smiled.

“I’ll bet you do.”

I drank the tea slowly, and it was still hot enough to burn my throat.

“This is on fire. Where did you heat it in a blast furnace?”

The tea had a medicinal musky flavor. When I finished, I felt a little dizzy.

“Excuse me, Pansy,” I didn’t know if it was the room temperature in her room or the tea, “but I’m feeling a little out of it. What the hell is in this stuff.”

“It’s a tea I make from guava leaves and strawberry stems and a few things I’m not supposed to divulge.”

“Like what?”

“Well, it has an herbal ingredient to mimic ecstasy.”

“Yeah, I’m not into drugs, I once took half a tab at a rave, and I ended up in a tent with five guys from the Gay Barbarians”s band, if you’ve heard of them, who showed me no mercy?”

“What happened?”

“I’d rather not talk about it. Suffice it to say; I never suffered from constipation again.”

“Wow. You don’t have to worry about me unless you prefer anal to cunt?”

I froze when she used that word.

I looked up at her. She had taken off her yellow bathrobe and laid it on the back of her chair. She was nude, but her legs were so close together I could not see anything of her ‘wings.'”

“Say, have you seen any strange lights from above? I noticed some the other night that seemed to illuminate your balcony.”

“My Gynocologist says besides letting the moonlight and the damp evening air onto my vagina, I should have sex at least once a week. Do you think you are up to it tonight?”

“I was when I walked in here, but I’m now very dizzy.”

“I’ve got some gay neighbors if you’d prefer anal. Would you like me to call them over here?”

“No, please just give me a few minutes to clear my head, maybe if I sat out on your little balcony.”

Pansy put her arm around me and guided me out through the balcony’s glass door. Even though she was nude, she didn’t seem elazığ escort to care. She sat me down, unzipping my fly, pulling the underwear elastic down past my cock, and placing it below my balls. The effect was to press my package exaggeratingly forward.

“Jeez, Panzy, I could get arrested sitting out here with my dick and balls breathing in the cool night air.”

“It’s too dark for anyone to notice, don’t worry, no one will see.”

But she was wrong. A small herd of gay guys spotted me almost immediately before I passed out. The last words I heard were their shouts from the street below, “Party Time.”

Hours later, the first gray notes of sunrise woke me up. I was lying nude on the balcony. My ass felt very sore and clogged, and my dick was covered with dried cum. Then I realized a yellow light was illuminating me.

“Pansy, Pansy, what happened?”

She started giggling, “It’s all my fault. I gave you my special tea without realizing it was too strong for you, and I had no idea this would happen.”

“What is funny about drugging someone?”

“I’m sorry, but you were so silly afterward, and then the group of gay guys you called came up here. Since you wanted them, I let them see you, and well, you can figure out at what point it all went south.”

“Did they bother you at all?’

“No worries, gay boys are not interested in pussy.”

“I was the one who wanted to fuck you, you and your perfect pussy.”

“Don’t worry about it. The good-looking Amazon delivery guy will come up here tomorrow and accomplish the act you’ve talked about for hours in less than five minutes .”

She laughed at her witty response, but her face began to change shape.

“If you can walk,” Pansy said, “I think it’s time for you to go. It’s almost daybreak.”

As Pansy helped me up from the balcony, a strange light illuminated her, and when I turned to look, her face had morphed into something I’d never seen before. Her mouth was wider, one cyclops’ eye was at the center of her forehead, and her nose was missing. Horrified, I looked away. A clear glass filled with what appeared gooey enough to be sperm was on the table between us.

“What is that?”

“Oh yes, you do ask so many questions. It’s your donation to the interplanetary sperm bank.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, not at all.

I tried to get up, but my thigh muscles felt worn out, and my ass was sore.

“If it makes you feel any better, you weren’t raped by five gay guys. The pain in your ass is where I had to insert an electric prod to allow me to milk your prostate.”

“Oh, ok. I guess that’s better, but it hurts like hell. Couldn’t you just have jerked me off?”

“The electric probe is far more efficient and hygienic. Come now, time to go.”

I gave up arguing as Pansy took me by the hand and helped me out the door. I used the handrail to slowly get down the stairs, one foot at a time. Somehow I got down the street to my home, where I fell onto my bed without undressing.

I didn’t wake up until two in the afternoon when I took a bath in the tub I usually reserved for showers. My asshole was still sore deep inside, and I tried to use the shower telephone with cool water to quell the pain. I swore I wasn’t going back to mess with Pansy ever again, but I found myself standing in front of her apartment several days later.

A real estate salesman came out of the front door with a clipboard. When he saw me, he asked,

“Excuse me, are you the guy looking to rent the first-floor apartment?”

“Yes,” I lied. “Can you show it to me?”

We walked upstairs, and the blue pansies were still on the door, but the tiny apartment was empty; all the furniture was gone.

“The painter forgot to paint the door. I’ll have those flowers removed,” said the agent.

“What happened to the girl who lived here?”

“No one has lived here for several years. When my client bought the building, he was in the process of a major remodel on Fennel Street, so this job had to wait.”

“No, you are mistaken. There was a girl named Pansy here just last week.”

“No, that’s impossible, Sir. You confuse this building with another, and the mind sometimes plays tricks like that.”

“Ok, I guess you are right. I’ll think about renting the apartment.”

“Sure.”

The agent took out his business card and handed it to me. From the quizzical expression on his face, it was apparent he didn’t believe me.

I looked at the silver embossed card, ‘Out of this World Real Estate,’ and I could swear the agent winked at me with his cyclops’ eye.

THE END FOR NOW

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Just after 11:45 AM, Martin Shackleford came through the door of Bettie’s, a dismal, outdated local hangout, and walked dejectedly into the dim interior. A blast of superheated air wafted into the none too cool building after him. He stopped for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dim light after the bright late-August sunlight outside.

Bettie got up from her old threadbare recliner and almost rolled toward the bar. The chair sat beside the struggling, rattling old window air conditioning unit so the corpulent woman could stay as cool as possible. Between her weight, diabetes and poor eating habits it was almost all she could do to make the trip from her chair to the bar or grill, prepare, then deliver the order to her customers. Many times, the regular customers ordered and carried their own drinks and meals so she wouldn’t have to. On particularly bad days, she had one of the local unemployed older ladies come help her. Sometimes they worked as waitress, other times they cooked and did it all while she sat in her chair or was ostensibly in town purchasing supplies.

The air-conditioner and her small portable TV on the back of the bar was the only noise in the building excluding her wheezing and clomping as she walked. She almost glared at Martin when he took his usual seat at one of the mismatched tables scattered around the room. All the furniture had been picked up at flea markets or rummage sales. None of it matched the other pieces in the room.

Bettie stood for a moment then, in exasperation asked, “What’ll it be Marty; your usual, or are you just going to sit and take up space?”

Marty glanced at the back bar to see the sign one of the regulars made Bettie. Yep, it read “Grumpy Bettie” today. He rested both forearms on the table top and stared down at it for several seconds without answering. Bettie was beginning to become upset because he was ignoring her when he finally answered, “Yeah, I guess. Just as well let you have my money instead of the damn bankers. At least you need it.”

Marty got up and walked over to the bar. Before Bettie turned away and began preparing his hamburger and fries, he said, “Instead of a Pepsi gimme a draft. I need one today. The soda isn’t strong enough for this damn day.”

Bettie looked at Marty in surprise. Almost none of her usual lunch customers ordered beer during the day. Most of them were farmers or laborers and a little alcohol could precipitate a serious accident. Early in the afternoon some of the retired folks and drunks began filtering in and had a drink or two but rarely did a working man order one with his lunch. It was usually iced tea or a soft drink.

“What’s got into you Marty? You look like someone shit in your lunch bucket and you sure know you don’t need a beer if you’re working around your machinery. Are you taking the day off?”

“Yeah, I guess. Got a letter from the bank yesterday. Said if I didn’t catch up on my payments, they were going to take the farm. I spent almost two hours with that snotty loan officer and didn’t get anywhere today. All she would say was I had to pay up. Said no way would they even consider extending the loan. Asked me why I thought they should throw good money after bad. Wasn’t like this when George and his family owned the bank. This bank they sold out to doesn’t give a shit about us. All they care about is the damn money, the bottom line. I don’t think that woman even knows what a beef or crop in a field looks like. You’ve seen her all dressed to the nines and sleek and pretty. I bet she washes the dirt off that nice new Lexus she drives every day when she gets back to the city where she lives.”

While he was talking, Bettie pulled his beer and set it on the bar. She said, “Huh. I’m sorry. What are you going to do?”

“Damn if I know. Try to find a loan somewhere else but I don’t have much hope. Ever since Trump got into it with China and they quit buying agricultural products from us all the farmers have had to tighten their belts. I’m not the only one having trouble paying their loans but some of the guys I’ve talked to at least managed to get their bankers to work with them. I made it longer than some of them did. Might have made it all the way if Jenny hadn’t had that accident and died on me. Of course, the damage award not covered by the insurance just did me in. That’s what the majority of the mortgage money is. I thought I was home free when I managed to keep the farm after that but I guess not. Fucking bankers. Sorry.”

“Yeah. Well, it’ll be a minute.” She looked at his beer mug and continued, “That’s about gone. Want another before I cook your burger?”

Marty looked at his nearly empty mug, nodded and finished his first one in a couple of quick gulps. He stood waiting while Bettie pulled his second beer. She set it on the bar and said, “Here’s your brew.”

Bettie turned and waddled three steps to the grill and deep fat fryer to prepare Marty’s meal. Marty picked up his glass and returned to his table. He thought about sitting at the bar but the stools weren’t as comfortable as his usual chair and he really bursa escort didn’t feel like talking to Bettie if she felt compelled to spout some of her words of wisdom or, more likely, some of her verbal crap.

When he saw her dishing up his meal, he took his now empty mug to the bar and waited for her to set his plate down for him. She pulled him another beer without asking this time. He managed to get his meal, beer and the condiment bottles back to his table in one trip. He doctored his burger and sat wolfing down his meal and ignoring Bettie, the obnoxious TV she insisted on watching and the three or four other customers that filtered in while he ate. After he finished, he just sat, leaned on the table and zoned out.

After the lunch rush Bettie finally couldn’t take any more and yelled at Marty, “Well, you going to just sit there all afternoon or you going to do something about this mess you’re in?”

Marty felt a quick jolt of anger then, if anything, he slumped more. He slowly looked up at Bettie and said, “Don’t know. I don’t have any idea what to do right now. Put the burger on my tab and I’ll catch up next time I’m in.”

Bettie looked at the wall calendar and said, “Ya know you have to pay up before the end of the month. Ya only have four days left.”

“Yeah, I know. Of fuck it.” Marty reached into his pocket and pulled his billfold out. He dug in it until he found an old worn, folded up check. He stood beside the bar and filled it out. Before he put the amounts in, he asked how much his tab was.

Bettie looked in her book and found his page then added up the charges. She gave him the figure and Marty returned to writing on the check. He signed it and pushed it toward Bettie as he said, “I made it out for $150.00. Let me know when that’s used up. The way things are going I may need a meal I don’t have to pay for before long.”

Bettie stood and watched without saying anything else as Marty walked across the room and out the door. She grimaced as the glare of the sunlight hit her eyes then turned and headed for her chair and the afternoons soap operas.

The next week passed slowly for Marty. He moved around in a daze. He tried all the local banks and none of them would loan him operating money or give him a new or second loan on his farm. He spent almost as much time in Bettie’s as she did. When she asked him why he wasn’t working all he said was “What’s the use? I’ll be damned if I’ll do anything to keep the place up so the fucking banker can make more money when he sells it. I’m just waiting until they kick me out then I’ll move on I guess.”

That was the last straw. Bettie waddled up to him and slapped him so hard he almost fell out of his chair. He sat looking at her in stunned silence while he rubbed his burning face.

Bettie glared at him and said, “You miserable son of a bitch. You think you’re the only one with problems? Hell, I have collection agencies calling me all the time. I was just lucky enough this shitty old building was paid for and I’ve been smart enough not to get a loan on it. At least I can live in the back room and my food is more or less free. You’re still better off than a lot of folks hereabouts. Look at me. I’m a fat hog with so many health problems I can’t list them all. You’re young and as far as I know healthy as a horse. Sure, you had some problems and Jennie didn’t help running that stop light and hitting that family but you’re able to start over if you get your head out of your ass and try. Move on. Hell, see if Ronnie’ll hire you for farm labor until you get another start. You know he’s always looking for good help, especially during crop season. If you don’t want to do that, get a job in town. Lots of folks do.”

Marty sat looking at Bettie for a minute and then rose and walked out of the building without saying a word. He got into his truck and slammed the door. After he got his temper under control, he started the engine and drove, none too slowly, home.

After he got home Marty took his last partial bottle of whiskey down from the cabinet. He was still so pissed he began drinking from the neck of the bottle while he sat on his porch and looked over his back field. As he drank, he kept noticing things that needed doing, then said to himself, fuck it. Why should I fix things when the damn bank is just going to get it and it’ll make the place worth more to them?

Unfortunately for his peace of mind, he couldn’t get Bettie’s tirade out of his mind. He kept thinking she was right. He knew how to do a hell of a lot of things. Surely someone would hire him for his ability to do something. Heck, a farmer was a jack of all trades and some, like him, were masters of a few. He had worked as a mechanic in the Army, then cross trained as a medic before he decided he really wanted to get back to farming. He could weld and operate heavy machinery. But, damn it, he was a farmer. He didn’t want to work in some god forsaken city or even inside an implement dealer’s shop all day. Damn it all to hell.

The next morning a çanakkale escort slightly hung-over Marty wandered into the local coffee shop where most of the retired men and a few of the local farmers stopped for gossip and coffee or breakfast (or all three). He was going to have to stop this habit soon. The coffee wasn’t much—less than a dollar—but the fuel to drive into town came to at least $2.00 or $2.50 a day and he had been coming to town almost every day. That added up in a hurry.

After most of the men left Marty picked up the newspaper from the next largest town and began reading it. He went from front to back and, without thinking too much about it, he began reading the want ads and help wanted section. His initial thought had been to see if he could sell some of his possessions and machinery that wasn’t held as lean security but his eye was almost immediately caught by an ad in the help wanted section. In large print, two columns wide, was a job that immediately caught his attention.

The advertisement read: WANTED. INDIVIDUALS FOR WORK SETTING UP A PIONEER VILLAGE. KNOWLEDGE OF FARMING, ANIMAL HUSBANDRY, MECHANICS, CONSTRUCTION, WELDING REQUIRED. OTHER CAPABILITIES ARE A PLUS. SHOW THE PUBLIC HOW IT USED TO BE DONE! FAMILIES ACCEPTED. CALL 800-123-1234 TO APPLY.

With mounting excitement Marty copied the phone number then got up and left, heading home. As soon as he arrived home he went to his office and made the call. A very businesslike man answered the phone and asked several questions about his life, capabilities and background. One question was more difficult for Marty to answer than the rest. The man asked, “Why are you calling us about the advertisement?”

Marty was stumped. Why was he calling? Finally, he decided to be brutally honest. “I don’t have much choice. My wife had an auto accident and died. She was talking on her phone and ran a red light. She hit another car with a young family in it. By the time the lawyers were done with me I had to take out a large loan on my farm to pay the award, then the President got into his pissing match with the Chinese and they stopped buying farm products from us. I couldn’t make my loan payments and the bank is taking my farm. I have nowhere to go, no family to help me and I don’t want to work in a damn city. I think I would like working in your primitive pioneer village reenactment.”

“Hummmmm. On the surface you seem to be what we are looking for. I think it would be worthwhile to see your Resume and do an interview at the very least. That is if you are still interested?”

They set up an appointment for the next Wednesday and Marty hung up. He began working on a Resume, never having one before. He spent some time on the internet researching styles and reading suggestions about preparing one. He kept having one thought—crap, did people really write things like this?

He finally completed his resume and attached supporting documentation as requested. He had several certificates of completion for military classes and his high school and college transcripts as well as his certificate from the welding school he went to. He hoped it was enough. To his surprise, he found himself really wanting this job.

Marty felt as if the interview went well. He was sort of sad he would be required to relocate if he was hired but it was what he expected. Besides, it might be a good thing to get away from home again and maybe forget the bad things that happened. Before he left the interview room the interview team leader said, “Thank you for coming in Mr. Shackleford. We will be in touch as soon as the selection process is completed. We anticipate notifications will go out in two to three weeks.”

For the next ten days Marty alternated between depression and optimism. He felt as if he was strapped for cash and was afraid he wouldn’t be selected for the job. He kept looking for work but so far, the one interview for the Pioneer Village was the only bright spot in his job search. He felt as if he had nailed the interview and would be selected but he was afraid he wouldn’t be.

Finally, on the morning of the eleventh day after the interview he received the phone call he dreaded and looked forward to. When he answered the phone he heard, “Mr. Shackleford? This is Jones from Pioneer Corporation. Congratulations, you have been selected for employment with our venture. Are you still interested in the position?”

“Yes Sir. I sure am. Can you tell me where the work is and when I start? How about moving my personal items? Which position was I selected for? Has the salary been finalized? Things are getting a little tight here.”

“Yes, I can answer some of those questions. You start in two weeks. We can assist in moving your personal possessions if you wish. Your salary is set at twice your current profit in local buying power funds as we promised. You’ve been selected for the generalist position. Now I must go as I still have several calls to make this morning. You’ll receive the employment packet via FedEx within the next rize escort several days. I believe they were sent yesterday or this morning after selections were finalized. Please sign the contract and complete the employment forms then return them in the prepaid return envelope.”

Marty wasted no time completing the paperwork and returning it to the Pioneer Corporation. In fact, he completed the paperwork the same day he received it and drove almost 40 miles to personally take it to the FedEx drop instead of calling them for a pick up.

From that point on he seemed to constantly receive instructions, information or information requests from the Corporation, either by text message or e-mail. Of course, as questions came up, he made use of the e-mail to request answers thus keeping the electrons flowing back and forth.

Since Marty had a nearly new F450 Dually and a 40-foot flatbed gooseneck trailer he opted to pack and take his own possessions. Besides, he found out the corporation would pay him the going rate for the move as if they hired a moving company for him. He felt he could use the money and the deal was done as they say. He had an old oceangoing freight container still in excellent shape he placed on the trailer then he built a ten-foot covered area on the front over the gooseneck for items that had to be dry. He packed his meagre household supplies and furniture inside the container first. Next, he packed his tools, seeds, saddles, tack and harnesses for his and his deceased wife’s horses. He owned a few registered cattle, some chickens and horses he didn’t know what to do about. Most of his livestock were tied up in the defaulted farm loan but he had held five cows, a bull and three horses out because they were not needed for the loan and they were his and his wife’s dream. They planned to use them to upgrade their herds and sell a better grade of animal before the troubles hit. Luckily the animals were considered acceptable for display in the village and the corporation agreed to ship them to the location for Marty.

He even managed to load his small 30 horsepower tractor and a two-bottom plow and disc harrow on the trailer. He packed everything he could on, under and inside. To say he was dangerously overloaded went without saying but he did it anyway. He even took metal and tools that had all but worn out, but by god they were his and he would be damned if an effing banker got one damn thing more than he had to fork over to him.

Finally, the day arrived when he was packed and needed to leave the area in which he was born, grew up and lost his wife. He was sad to go but glad to be out of the area and out from under the headache and heartache involved. It took him most of two days to drive to the warehouse complex where he was to meet with his new employers and his fellow “pioneers”. When he arrived, it was a busy madhouse. People were driving and running around on foot like a disturbed hill of ants.

After he checked in at the office, he took his rig to his assigned parking area. He was pleased to see he was near a bank of porta potties and was able to park under a nice shade tree. He decided to pitch a tent and sleep by his truck instead of in the warehouse in which the corporation had set up cots for the newly hired people. Families had a semblance of privacy through the method of hanging sheets of cloth on steel cables to separate off their sleeping areas. Single people were segregated by sex but had no privacy from their fellows of the same sex.

For the next three days eight to ten hours a day there were medical exams, briefings, fittings for “proper” pioneer style clothes and classes on the way people acted and spoke during the period they intended to simulate in their village. They were even given rudimentary instruction on building and use of period specific tools!

On the last day of classes there was a mixer and banquet beginning at 6 PM, attendance at which was mandatory. The notice informed everyone that if they did not attend their employment would be terminated. One family did not attend because they did not believe in drinking spirits or associating with those who did while they were drinking.

After the mixer ended and everyone was seated for the meal the doors to the convention center were closed and the food was served. Each person was served, literally, their favorite evening meal (or at least the one they told their employers was their favorite).

After almost everyone was finished with their meal a final celebratory drink and dessert were served. The officers of the corporation stood and looked over the assembled pioneers and watched, smiling, as the conversation slowed to a stop. Jones turned to an older white-haired man, nodded his head and turned to walk off the stage. The remainder of the men followed leaving silence in their wake.

PIONEER VILLAGE

CHAPTER 2

BY SW MO HERMIT

Marty slowly became aware of raised voices around him. Shortly after that, he noticed the room in which he sat was different. There were no linen tablecloths. The tables and furniture were rough, well-worn unvarnished wood, not the pressed wood and faux elegant furnishings he remembered from the banquet. He and those he could see nearby were still seated in the same places in the room but the room itself, was rough. The walls were bare lumber, whitewashed for sure, but obviously without the fit and finish he was used to.

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The three ladies-in-waiting worked quickly and silently, though none too gently. One carefully plaited Valaria’s dark hair into tiny braids and heaped them on top of her head. The other two maids attended her fingers and toes, buffing, trimming, and painting her nails.

“Bring me the perfumed oil, I’ll apply it myself.” she said shortly. The maids ceded without a word. It was an oil made from the flowers of Lover’s Bliss, so the note from her husband had claimed. Valaria applied it thickly on her arms, neck, breasts, stomach, and thighs. Her maids colored and looked away she covered her fingers in the oil, and rubbed it on her nethers and inside.

Valaria stared expressionlessly into the mirror before her. Many women in her situation would be nervous, perhaps giddy…but she found it difficult to feel anything at all. Tonight she would be taken to her husband’s bed for the first time, after having married him over a month ago. She had seen him only twice since, which was twice too much. Her movements in his home were closely watched, she was well aware she was more prisoner than bride and always would be. Even so, she had managed to make her plans and find what she needed to carry them out. After tonight, she would be free, her enemy would be dead, and her family avenged. Valaria closed her eyes on this cold and careless room…

Memory carried her back to the warm airy halls of her father’s palace. She and the usual troublemakers were sneaking through the halls well after bedtime- Aren, three years her senior and inventor of many grand adventures; Jaliane, barely a year older, stoic, strong and gentle; Covres, nearly her age and wild as a capuchin; Genne and Gevrais, the twins who were so clever at getting into things and places the others could not. Their father was hosting such a grand affair the entire palace had been buzzing with talk of it for weeks. There was no way the group of them could just sleep upstairs with the other young ones, and not even have just one look at the splendor.

Down the stairs they crept, careful not to be seen over the top of the banister. It would not have mattered, the children quickly discovered, as the great hall was so filled with glamor and light and richly costumed men and women that six children in night clothes would hardly be noticed at all.

The people clustered together in small boisterously chattering and brightly glittering groups, or else spun in bejeweled pairs around the ballroom floor. As the children reached the bottom of the stairs, they dispersed, each following a different distraction. Valaria walked barefoot on the cool marble tiled floor, following a woman in a glittering golden gown and a masque with dainty stag’s antlers. The woman carefully made her way to a tight knot of people at the back of the hall, calling out cheery greetings to those she passed. No one noticed her wide eyed shadow.

The knot opened to admit the new arrival, and Valaria moved closer to hear the suddenly hushed conversation. “Eviena, so glad you could join us. What do you think of His Majesty’s fete?” Asked a gentleman in a blue coat who was being supported by a man in silver who seemed to need the help more than he did.

“Sparkling, Darling, simply sparkling.” Replied the antlered woman, Eviena.

“A fine thing, let’s all just get dressed up and pretend we’re not living under the threat of invasion…” a dour woman in white grumbled.

“Don’t be so dreary, Shayelle…Venterak is always making threats. They’d never dream of actually attacking…”

Suddenly Valaria found herself lifted into the air, and a stern voice made her shrink inside: “Aria, what are you doing out of bed?” Her father said loud enough to get the attention of the antlered woman and several others nearby.

“Father…I…” she stammered, but was not given a chance to plead or explain. The King whisked her away and lectured her all the way to the nursery.

None of the others were caught, having made good their escape while Aria provided the distraction.

The maids urged her to stand without a word, and stiffly Valaria obliged them. The three of them towered over her. Blonde ethereal girls with watery blue eyes that gave every evidence of stupidity. Just the way Venteraki men liked their women. They were not beautiful to her eyes, none of these strange pale folk were…not anymore. Valaria felt as small as a child, and could never hope to hide her dark coffee skin and dark hair from their stares and snickers. Every one of these people was as nasty and hateful as their King…she wondered how they could bear to live in a world with no pleasure or joy.

They produced a diaphanous white gown Valaria hoped she would not be required to sleep in, it rested low on her shoulders revealing every bit of bosom; the bodice they set to lacing up tight enough she had to catch her breath. It fell from the hips loosely in many translucent layers, so altogether, had she been as pale as these women, perhaps one would not be able to see straight through the thing.

Aren had been muğla escort allowed to accompany their father to greet the Emissary from Venterak, because he was a boy and thirteen years old. He came back to the others with stories of the pale giant in unusual and austere black, his chilly and threatening demeanor.

“Why did you get to go, and not Jaliane or me?” Valaria objected when Aren finished his tale. She stood with hands on hips, glaring at her brother with undisguised envy. Jaliane shifted uncomfortably; she was a shy girl and disliked being dragged into disputes between her siblings, but that never fazed Valaria.

Aren blinked; surprised his sister still didn’t get it. “Because you’re a kid and just a girl anyway.” He answered matter-of-factly. Their father had said the same, though his words were gentler…either way, Valaria would not accept it.

“That’s not fair, I understand as much as you.” She stepped up to her brother, glaring into his eyes.

Aren frowned and shoved her backwards. “Give it up Aria, Father said you couldn’t go.” Valaria growled under her breath, jumping to her feet and launching herself at Aren. The older boy just moved out of the way.

The other four children sat up, ready to see a fight, but Valaria didn’t oblige them. Instead she grabbed Jaliane by the hand and stomped out of the room. The others sat in silence for a few moments, and then Genne piped in softly, “So, what about the other Venteraki? I heard there were four…”

“Where are we going?” Jaliane whispered, trying to maintain some dignity while her younger sister dragged her down a side corridor.

“I want to see the Venteraki emissary myself.” Valaria hissed. “I’ll show them I know how to get on with foreigners.” Jaliane tried to object, but it was useless.

The two of them used the inner passages to get to the visitor’s suite, but found the rooms to be empty. Cautiously Valaria slid open the door and crept out into the main room. There was no sign of the strangers.

Jaliane watched from the passage as her sister explored the room, afraid to stay and be caught, and afraid to leave Valaria to the mercy of the pale giants. Then Valaria opened the balcony door and went through. Jaliane decided not to follow.

Beside the rather small balcony was a path to a tiny private garden. Valaria skipped down to the garden below, and froze on the bottom step. In the center of the garden was a small tree in a golden pot, and it was unlike any she had seen before. It had spindly twin trunks so dark they were nearly black, the bark looked smooth, the leaves were large and dark green, somewhat heart-shaped. What truly had her entranced, however, were the flowers, nearly as large as her head and the color of blood, hundreds of fine petals surrounding a deep purple core. It was lovely and strange, and slowly, Valaria reached out her fingers to touch it.

“Who are you, little girl?” a man said suddenly in harsh tones, words clipped at the end. Aria wheeled and found herself face-to-chest with him. She backed up and stared wide-eyed at the young man, broad-shouldered with pale yellow hair and sharp blue eyes, and skin fair as snow. He was strange, frightening, and beautiful. Her breath caught in her throat. “What are you doing here?” he asked after she had only stared, growing impatient. Valaria realized he was barely a man, like her brother, but much taller- he had only the barest shadow of facial hair.

She took a deep breath, and curtseyed deeply. “I am Princess Valaria te’Arike, it is a pleasure to meet you, Lord…?” She smiled at him winsomely.

He smiled in turn, and by the gods his smile was charming, and mischievous. “Ah, Your Highness. I am,” he paused and considered, clearly new to the language. “I am Lord Dalleris, Mayor of Eyriek.”

“Mayor, really, at your age?” Aria was awed.

“Well, yes, I inherited the title from my father, like you did yours, Princess. So, you like our little Lover’s Bliss?” He smiled again.

“I beg your pardon?” Aria blinked. Lord Dalleris laughed, and Aria could not help but smile, though she didn’t share his jest.

“The tree, Your Highness. It’s called Lover’s Bliss, and it is exceptionally rare. In it’s native land of Beraberos, far south even of Arike, it grows only in the mountains, and is cherished for its potent magic.” He took Aria’s hand in his casually, and lead her nearer to the tree. Aria marveled at his strong but soft hand, at the pleasant, musky scent of him, like no one she’d smelled before. She was amused Aren had found the Venteraki so threatening, for Lord Dalleris was nothing of the sort.

The tree had a tangy scent, like orange and pomegranate mingled with sunshine, eucalyptus, and other things she could not name. Aria saw that the leaves were veined in purple, and every possible shade of red was compassed in the petals of the flowers. “Have you been to Beraberos, Lord Dalleris?” She looked up into his keen blue eyes.

“Yes, I’ve been to many places, but this ordu escort tree was brought from the King’s own gardens as a gift to your father.” He smiled and answered her question before she could ask it. “We brought seeds home, a live tree would not make a journey as long as that one, five weeks by sea.”

Aria looked back to the tree, and at Lord Dalleris’ urging, she stroked the waxy leaf, the velvety petals of the flower. “This tree is magical?” she asked, doubtfully.

“So the natives say. Every part of it has a potent effect when made into potion or poultice. The bark relieves pain, the roots bind wounds without scars. The leaves brew a tea that induces visions, the flowers heighten passion in man or woman…and the fruit…the fruit kills.”

She had wanted to ask him more about his travels, but Jaliane was there then, at the top of the stairs pleading with her to come back. She took her leave, trilling when Lord Dalleris kissed her hand in farewell.

Valaria was torn from her reverie, staggering with sudden light-headedness. She caught hold of the back of the chair, noticing bitterly that none of the maids moved to help her.

She steadied herself and nodded for the maids to continue. They wrapped her in a thick white bear-fur robe, carefully arranged her cascade of braids over it. Then they had her raise one foot, then the other, to slip on a dainty satin shoe and lace it up her leg to the knee, then again for the other foot. Valaria held onto the chair, not caring if the maids noticed her unsteadiness. They’d attribute it to her ‘racial inferiority’, if they thought of it at all, stupid girls that they were.

The maids began to apply glamor to her face, and Valaria closed her eyes, wondering just how horrible they would have her looking when the job was done.

The invasion started when Valaria was seventeen, and was over in little more than a year. The Venteraki King was overthrown by his own son, Prince Gavain. It was then that Valaria learned with what disdain the Venteraki held the Arikean people; the new King wasted no time sending his army into the fertile plains of northern Arike. It’s true that by then an invasion had been rumored for more than a decade, but her father had made great effort to find a diplomatic solution to the problem. All of that turned out to be for naught when the new king came to power. Since having been brought to Eyriek, Valaria had learned that King Gavain was a more popular ruler than his line had been in generations, because his actions were perceived as strong.

She had awakened cold and hot and unable to breathe. Choking, she wondered why it was so bright in the dead of night. The air smelled horrible, and her eyes burned. “Princess!” someone was shouting over and over.

That’s when Valaria realized something was burning very, very close. She leapt out of her bed, shocked that her floor was still cool to the touch despite the smoke coming in at the windows and the flickering of flames outside. “I’m here!” she cried out, her voice more shrill with terror than she would have liked.

It turned out to be Yves, the brawny palace guard who had frequented the princesses’ adolescent fantasies, who called for her. When Valaria came into view of him, he snatched her up without another word and carried her from the palace over one shoulder. She was too befuddled to consider the indignity of it. Before she could assess the horror of the situation, he had practically tossed her into a small carriage with several of her siblings and her father’s wives.

Valaria clung to two of her youngest sisters, Laye and Beshania, and the three wailed enough to drown out the rest of the carriage.

They rode for hours, and eventually cries dissolved to whimpers, and in some cases, to snores. Valaria was awake the whole time, eventually she let go her sisters and moved closer to the window.

They reached the high mountain fortress of her ancestors, Chauyelles te’Jallion, shortly after dawn. Arike had not been a warlike nation for many generations, having made peace with most of their neighbors through numerous marriages and contracts. Even so, the royal family had kept this relic of a violent past in reserve, a home away from home in time of strife. Here they could hide in safety while the King defended the land and people.

It wasn’t until the next day they were able to discover just how many of the royal family, staff, and servants were lost in the surprise attack on the capital city of Orpheres.

It was entirely too dark. Her eyes looked sunken, her cheeks and lips were heavy with reddish paint. If she cared, Valaria would make them do it all again, but she didn’t care if the King liked the way she looked, as long as he was interested enough to do his duty. The thought that he might gag at the taste of this pasty substance on her lips was the only thing that could make Valaria stomach the idea of letting him kiss her.

“Your…Highness, it’s time.” The tallest girl said. Valaria nodded, osmaniye escort choosing to ignore the snide tone. Soon none of it would matter anyway. The three of them set towards the door, and after a moment to steady herself, Valaria followed.

The halls of the Venteraki castle were narrow and austere, with narrow, high windows that let in little air and light. There were tapestries on the walls, but bland and faded things, intended not to cheer the atmosphere so much as keep out the cold. As if anything could warm this dreary place.

Perhaps she should have watched where the girls lead, to learn the route from her chambers to her husband’s, but instead Valaria let her thoughts wander once more.

King Gavain of Venterak was tall, broad-shouldered and strong of build with pale yellow hair and trim beard, blue eyes sharp as knives, features as fair and hard as chiseled marble. Valaria recognized him at once, Lord Dalleris he had named himself. He had lied.

She stood before him with all of her remaining like-aged sisters, trying hard not to let her fear show. He paced down the line, glancing over each, but stopped before her. “Blue eyes. I remember you, Princess Valaria.” He muttered, eyeing her like a buyer looks over a horse at market. Valaria lifted her chin and clinched her fists, but he turned from her to address his troops. “This is the one…throw these others in with the rest.”

Valaria gasped and Jaliane shrieked as the soldiers roughly pulled them apart. One pulled Valaria after the King; Jaliane was herded out with the rest of their sisters back to the dungeons. “Let me go! Let my sisters go! You monster!” Valaria screamed and spat at her captors. The soldiers and the King ignored her.

Valaria was held captive in her own room for a week, and she learned early that escape was not possible, but the attempt was very painful. She had no news of the conquest, of her family, or her captors during that time, but at the end of a week Venteraki women were sent in to dress her in her plainest gown, and throw her possessions into trunks. They marched her out to the courtyard, dragged her trunks to the carriage house.

She saw her family for the last time in that courtyard, as one by one they fell to the executioner’s axe, while she was held by two soldiers to prevent her leaping to their rescue. As if she could have done anything. After the grisly deed was done, Valaria was thrown into a carriage, her hands and feet secured so she sat spread-eagled on the back facing seat.

After a few moments, her family’s murderer joined her. She tried to leap at him, but her bonds held. He ignored her. Eventually she fell into quiet sobs, and then silence.

“What do you want with me?” she asked at last, her resolve worn down by dread and curiosity.

“You’re to be my wife, to legitimize my rule of your land,” he answered in clipped words. He did not bother to look up from the papers in his lap.

Valaria was stunned silent a moment, then spat at him angrily, “Never!”

The King looked up at her, his face that of a glacier. “You have no choice, Princess.”

“I’ll die first. I’ll kill you.” she growled.

“You’ll learn to love me, little Aria. You’ll have no choice in that, either. “

“Never!”

He laughed and produced a small stoppered phial with red liquid within. “Oil of Lover’s Bliss,” he said simply, unstoppered the phial and rubbed the thick liquid on his hands, his lips. He came to sit beside her, and she began to fight her bonds, desperate to escape, to kill him, anything.

Then he kissed her neck, and fire coursed her veins, igniting an instant lust. She closed her eyes as he kissed her throat, shoulders, and chest. He unlaced her dress enough to pull it down, exposing her pert breasts and hardened, chocolate nipples. He took one into his mouth, sucking gently, holding her nipple in his teeth as he teased it with his tongue. She cried and moaned, on fire with need and hating him for making her feel this way. When his attentions had her mad with desire, he slipped his hand up her skirt, caressing her thigh, then parting her nether lips, seeking her pleasure button, stroking it mercilessly. He moved to kiss her, and she welcomed him, tears streaming down her face. She kissed him deeply and fiercely, lust and hate entwined.

He left her then, unfulfilled. He smirked at her as he returned to his paperwork, ignoring her tears of despair and frustration.

Valaria was let into her husband’s chambers and left alone. She knew enough of Venteraki ways by now to know the rooms must be secure, guarded, and watched. Her plan wouldn’t require her to do anything but what they wanted her to, anyway.

His sitting room was just what she expected, austere, stiff backed chairs, bland tapestries, only one window, small by Arikean standards but largest she had seen in the castle, dark gray rug of wolf’s hide on the floor. She strode to the window and looked down on the gardens, seeing the greenhouse where the Lover’s Bliss was grown. Herlos, the Beraberosian gardener-slave, was a cheery man, the only one such she had seen here. He had been hesitant to give her the three hard red fruits, but in the end sympathy won out, and he even showed her how to extract the juice without waste or getting it on her skin. She hoped he would be long gone before morning, when her deeds were discovered.

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“Attention passengers.” a clear, female voice rang out from the loudspeaker of the starliner Pegasus, “we are approaching the planet Hedon, where will enter low planetary orbit for five parsects, during which time, several shuttles will take guests to the planet’s surface for an afternoon tour of the capital city of Gomorrah, before continuing our journey to the Cassiopeian solar system. For many of you, this will be your final destination for this trip, and we wish you fun and adventure on the surface of the most carefree planet in this galaxy.

“On behalf of Andromeda Star Lines, I wish to thank all of you who will leaving us, for traveling with the most lavish of the starlines. Before disembarking, however, please remember that aside from hats and footwear, all clothing is a violation of Hedon law, and all footwear must be below the knees; no thigh-high boots allowed, Ladies. Good luck, and have fun!”

I stood up from the comfortable travel pod in my cabin, and stretched for a few seconds, before pushing the personal button that directed my luggage to travel to the shuttle bay for transport to the spaceport on the surface. My cabin mate, Ursula, smiled at me as I prepared to make my way toward the shuttle bay.

“Good luck Jack.” she said warmly. “Have fun down there!”

“I certainly will!” I exclaimed, as I reached out to shake her hand. “It’s been great traveling with you.”

“Same here.” she replied. “I am SO jealous of you right now! No clothes or sexual inhibitions down there. It sounds awesome! Don’t forget to message me on the Universal Web with plenty of pics now! I want to see everything you’re getting yourself into!”

I nodded and smiled back at her.

“I kind of wish you were coming with me.” I said wistfully. “I really like you. I’m glad they made a mistake and put us together on this trip.”

“Me too.” she replied. “I really like you too, Jack. Maybe I can save my pennies and we can both come here together if you want.”

“Sounds like a plan, then.” I responded. “I’ll send a message when I can.”

I left the cabin, and as the door shut behind me, Ursula called out.

“Lucky dog!”

I smiled, and made my way to the shuttle bay, where I picked up my luggage and headed for the closest shuttle, Daneb, named after a star in the Cygnus star system. Back on Terra, once known as Earth, we called star systems constellations, but out here in interstellar space, they were referred to as star systems.

I found my luggage and entered the shuttle, preparing for the forty five mitons it would take to reach the surface. I was excited at what lay ahead. Since clothing was forbidden on the planet itself, we were required to strip on the shuttle, so that when we landed, we would not be in violation of the planet’s clothing laws.

It was an odd situation how these laws had come to be. On Terra, cold weather made it necessary to wear clothes in the temperate climates, and the planet’s laws gradually included clothing into them. On Hedon, however, a trinary solar system meant that the entire planet was always at a comfortable range of what I calculated to be 70 to 75 degrees back on Terra. There was always a sun in the sky at any given place on the planet, and orbiting three yellow dwarfs at the distance close to that of Jupiter allowed the comfy, perpetual daylight and temperatures all over the planet’s surface. This negated the need for any clothing at all, except for hats to shield one’s eyes, and shoes to protect the feet.

Evolving as a race devoid of clothing had a curious side affect as well. Always feeling free, tended to bolster the sexual appetites of this race of an otherwise human looking species. Their laws had therefor developed in support of nudity and sex, as opposed to Terran views of both being dirty or vile. We landed on the surface, and I excitedly picked my luggage up and made my way to the exit doors.

I didn’t need much baggage here, as most of what people bring with them on trips are changes of clothes, so I only had a single suitcase to contain toiletries and a few items of clothing for the journey to and from this clothes-free planet. I stepped off the shuttle into an amazing new world, where nobody was wearing a stitch of clothing, except for boots or shoes and the occasional hat. I walked down the loading tunnel to the concourse, where I was greeted by a pleasant young woman with glowing golden blonde hair.

“Male or female?” she inquired pleasantly.

“Huh?” I asked in a confused voice.

“Do you wish to be welcomed by a male or female?” she asked with a most alluring smile. “This is a most sacred experience.”

“Female, I guess.” I said with a shrug. “I’m a guy, so if someone’s going to hug me or something, it should be a woman, right?”

I hadn’t seen anything about this in the journal, regarding Hedonite etiquette, but as it turned out, I was darn sure lucky I made the choice that I did! The woman directed me to a line that ended with a dozen or so women waiting for bilecik escort newly arriving travelers. One of them approached me with a warm smile on her pale face.

“Welcome to Hedon.” she said. “Have you ever been here before?”

“No.” I replied.

“Oh good! Then you’ll really like our traditional welcome.” she exclaimed. “I always love getting a first timer.”

I was more than a little confused at all of this.

“On Terra, when we travel to a tropical island called Hawaii, they greet the guests with a lei made from flowers, and place it around their neck and give them a kiss on the cheek.” I explained. “Is this like that?”

“I don’t know what a lei is,” the woman replied, “but I think you’ll find this a whole lot more fun than a simple kiss on the cheek.”

With that, she dropped to her knees and placed her face directly into my groin.

“We welcome all guests to Hedon with oral sex.” she explained, before sliding her mouth over my cock. “This is our way of welcoming outsiders to our world of sexual pleasure.”

I was already aroused from seeing so many nude women walking around, so it didn’t take but an instant for me to harden in her warm, wet mouth. She slid her lips up and down the shaft of my penis, flicking her tongue all over my frenulum, until I couldn’t take it any longer.

“I’m going to cum!” I whispered, as I ejaculated in her mouth. “Oh shit!”

The woman took the entire load like a professional, which I’m quite certain she was, and swallowed it all. She then stood up and smiled at me as she licked her lips.

“Welcome to the planet Hedon.” she repeated. “I hope you liked this greeting more than getting one of those flower leis and a kiss on the cheek back on Terra.”

“Uh-huh.” I managed to squeak with a slight nod. “Much, much more.”

“Well then, enjoy your stay on our most beautiful planet!” she exclaimed.

“I believe I shall.” I responded as best as I could. “Good day.”

I tottered off in the direction of the main terminal, still trying to understand what had just happened. All around me were hundreds, if not thousands, of people walking around completely nude and acting just as casually as anyone could be walking around any city on Terra. I had heard stories of Hedons traveling to other planets like Terra, where clothing is mandatory, and them feeling just as conspicuous wearing clothes, as most of us would be, by being forced to go around nude. It’s funny how simple differences in local customs can be so foreign to outsiders.

I found the rental counter and checked in, to pick up my pre-reserved personal hovercraft. These were all pretty much universal now quite literally – as most of the known universe was now available to all cultures – so it wasn’t too hard to learn the subtle differences between the ones here, and back on Terra. I got the hang of it pretty quickly and zoomed out into the streets of Gomorrah to have a look around, before I checked into my room at the Visitor’s Quarters.

Since the temperatures were pretty much constant with almost perpetual sunlight, the vegetation on Hedon was amazing. In areas without rain, they formed deserts just like on any other planet, but where there was rain, the plant life was phenomenal! Rural areas were dense jungle regions in these rain forests, but where the humidity varied a bit, like here in Gomorrah, forests of giant trees made up the local countryside.

Back on Terra, we had a few of these forests made up of the three redwood species, but they were puny when compared to the forests of Hedon. These trees were easily three times as big in diameter as the giant sequoias, and four times taller than the coastal redwoods, due to the slightly lower gravity of the planet and an overabundance of lignin in the wood, which made for much stronger and lighter trees, allowing them to reach staggering heights.

I found a local park and decided to wander around for a bit; getting used to the lesser gravity and admiring the local flora and fauna, but most especially the fauna! I parked the hovercraft in a parking lot much like the ones we used to use on Terra, when vehicles had wheels instead of anti-gravitational propulsion systems, and set off to explore the park and its visitors.

Walking wasn’t too much different than on Terra, although my strides were a bit longer. Running or jumping was where I would notice the big differences. N the meantime, I was amazed at how casually everyone was treating sex. The park benches were full of both men and women masturbating openly in front of the general public. Whole families were engaging in sex acts on blankets in open areas, and dozens of couples were fucking their brains out in plain sight of everyone else. I was amazed, but it was why I was here; to experience this life for myself and see if I wanted to move here permanently.

Once I had the walking down, I decided to try jogging instead. It was amazing! I found myself clearing manisa escort at least fifteen feet between steps, which many Terrans referred to as loping, and it was immediately obvious that I was not a local. It reminded me of the time I saw a Jovian running in a park in New, New, New York City. He had to have been leaping at least fifty feet between his strides. Here, he might even travel a hundred feet or more! I covered what had to have been a mile or more in less than five minutes, before deciding to take a breather. I found an empty bench and sat down to catch my breath for a few minutes.

I watched, as dozens of nude people passed in front of me, and I was getting aroused at all of this naked flesh. It had been over an hour since my welcoming blowjob, and I was a bit ready to have another orgasm. My attention fell on a gorgeous young lady who couldn’t have been more than eighteen years old. She was obviously very pregnant, although it was difficult to tell on this planet. The lower gravity had a tendency to make every woman’s belly swell to the size of carrying twins on Terra. I could only imagine what a Hedon carrying triplets must look like!

She knew I was staring at her and smiled at me in response. I smiled back, and began stroking my cock to get it hard again. It didn’t take long, believe me! It was absolutely wonderful to be able to jerk off in public without so much as a care in the world. It wasn’t long before I was oblivious to everyone else around me. All I saw was her.

“Hello there, my name is Persephone.” she said with a smile. “It looks like you’re interested in me.”

“I love your pregnant belly.” I admitted, as I continued jerking off in front of her. “It’s so hot. I’ve always wanted to fuck a preggo chick.”

“That’s so sweet of you to say.” she replied. “I’d love to help you with your fantasy, but I have a husband that I really love, and I don’t want to have sex with someone else unless he’s watching me. I don’t mind if you cum in front of me though. You say you like pregnant women. Is it the big belly thing?”

“Yes.” I said with a jerky nod. “It’s so alluring.”

“Well, I don’t know what that word means, but would you like for me to turn sideways?” she inquired.

“Oh yes please!” I responded, my voice cracking. “That would be wonderful, thank you!”

She obliged me, and I stood up as gobs of cum shot from my cock. Back on Terra, I would typically ejaculate three to four feet, but I was amazed as both the excitement of the situation and the lower gravity combined, to shoot my load closer to eight feet; landing a heavy gob on her massive belly. The women giggled.

“I’ll bet that would have wonderful inside of me.” she said wistfully. “Too bad Husband was not with me today for lunch. Perhaps I’ll see you around again, though. Good day, Friend.”

And just like that, it was over! I couldn’t believe how casual the whole episode had been. I had just masturbated in public in front of dozens of strangers, and had an orgasm to the sight of a gorgeous woman I’d never seen before! It was an amazing experience to say the least, but it was commonplace here. I couldn’t wait to recoup myself and do something similar as soon as I was able. I loped back to the hovercraft and headed for the Visitor’s Quarters.

I was welcomed by another alluring woman behind the counter, and I couldn’t help but stare at her. Her eyes were a fiery shade of amber that was not found on Terra, except for orange house cats, and they complimented her dark red hair and pale skin perfectly.

“I love your eyes.” I said, before I even realized what I was saying. “Amber eyes are rare on Terra, and even then, they are much less striking than yours.”

“Why thank you!” she exclaimed. “I love your green eyes too. We don’t have them here at all. The genes were never passed on to our genetics. Would you like to have sex with me sometime? Perhaps we could make a child that will have your emerald eyes.”

I was dumbfounded! Was it really that overt? Did people really have sex at the drop of a hat, ANY hat?

“I, uh… umm… I mean…” I stammered, trying not to blow this, “Umm, yes, I would. I’m sorry, I’m not used to your ways yet. I was just stunned that you would ask me like that.”

“Oh, you have a lot to learn about Hedons.” the woman said with a smile. “When we see someone we are attracted to, we either ask them to have sex with us, or we just take matters into our own hands, if you know what I mean.”

I did, in fact. It was abundantly obvious, as she was rubbing herself right there in front of me.

“I just had an orgasm in the park a little while ago,” I explained, “but I’d love to have sex with you later on. Perhaps I could take you out for dinner, and we could fuck in the restaurant?”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea!” she responded exuberantly. “I’m Thera. Oh shit, I’m gonna cum. Hold on a sec…”

She grunted and dropped to her knees as she exploded mersin escort in a wonderful orgasm. I could hear the sound of her juices squirting onto the tiled floor, so I knew it was a hard cum. After several seconds, she stood back up and smiled.

“Oh my, that was nice! You are a very handsome man. Could I please have your name so that I can check you in, and then drop by your room later on for dinner and sex?”

I was still trying to accommodate all of this into my head, but managed to not only nod like an idiot, but tell her my name as well.

“Okay Jack, you are on the 300th floor. My, what a view you will have! You can see all the way to Sodom from there! You’ll love it! I get off work in three signons, so I’ll knock on your door then. See you soon!”

“Looking forward to it, Thera.” I answered, as I made my way to the vertical ascender that would take me skyward.

I was amazed at the number of buttons on the panel! With lesser gravity than we have on Terra, Hedons were able to use stronger and lighter materials to build even higher! This building topped out at 900 floors, so my quarters were only a third of the way up, but it still lent to spectacular views of the planet below; even more so when Thera and I would go to the top floor, to the revolving restaurant for dinner and sex.

I thought back to my Terran history, and had to laugh when I read of the tallest buildings in the ancient world topping out at a measly half mile or so. What idiots our forebears had been, building with concrete, steel and glass! Bizanium, carbon fiber and transparent microcarbon had replaced all of those outdated materials a thousand yarhne ago. Today, it was commonplace even on Terra, to build structures that were a thousand floors in height. Here on Hedon, where the gravity was about a quarter less than Terra’s, engineers were now pushing towers that reached up to almost fifteen hundred floors. From the top floor of these new buildings, you could see the curvature of the planet, and should you venture outside, supplemental oxygen was required.

I found my room and swiped the electronic key to gain access. I looked out the window and was almost immediately overcome with vertigo, as I gazed down at the ground some 4,500 feet below. People were invisible to the naked eye, and even the giant forests looked like little more than garden plants. I could only imagine what I would see from the top floor that towered over 13,500 feet, or more than two and a half miles above the surface of the planet. I showered and applied my favorite cologne, before turning on the picture screen to watch some local shows.

There were thousands of channels available on the screen, but aside from news or weather, all the stories were nothing short of what I would consider porn. Everyone was nude, and all the scenes involved sex of all kinds. Even the family shows were full of sexual situations. I was very tempted to masturbate, but the thought of having sex with Thera in public outweighed my lustful thoughts for the moment.

True to her word, Thera knocked on my door about two hours later. Signons were apparently Hedon’s measurement that were equivalent to Terran hours, and one signon was close to forty five minutes. If I were going to spend any amount of time on this planet, I definitely needed to invest in a Hedon watch! I opened the door, and there she was in all of her glory; amber eyes, dark red hair and a muff to match. I could feel my penis stiffening as I gazed at her beautiful face and bare body.

“You look great!” I managed to blurt out. “So hot!”

“Mmm, I love your dick.” Thera murmured in response. “I can’t wait to feel it inside of me.”

“Me neither.” I agreed pleasantly. “Wow, you were right about the view! I think I can see my mom’s house from here.”

“Your mother lives here on Hedon?” Thera inquired in a puzzled tone. “Why are you not staying with her, then?”

“It’s a joke.” I said with a smile.

“A joke?” Thera responded. “What is that?”

“Humor.” I replied. “It’s meant to be funny.”

I looked at her in bewilderment.

“You mean, you don’t have humor on Hedon?”

She shook her head.

“I don’t think so, no. What is this humor you speak of?”

“Okay, so my mother lives on the other side of the galaxy.” I explained. “The joke was that this building is so tall, that I can see past the curvature of the planet and see my mom’s house from here.”

My voice trailed off, as I realized that Hedons had no concept whatsoever, of humor. I suddenly realized the downside of all of this, but I had an idea. What if I could become the planet’s first standup comedian?

“I don’t understand.” Thera replied, looking rather perplexed. “Can we just have something to eat and then have sex together? Perhaps you could explain this humor thing to me after we are finished fucking?”

I pondered her suggestion for a few seconds, before coming to the most logical of conclusions. Even an idiot would know how to proceed with this, and you know what? I’m not an idiot! No matter how good it sounded in my head at the moment, my plan could definitely wait until we were finished with dinner! And fucking! And whatever else this planet could possibly bring next. This was only the my first afternoon here, and something told me this was going to be one hell of a vacation!

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Chapter 15: Healing

(4,4k words, futa, romance, character focus, plot chapter, dialogue focus, character development, wholesomeness, plot reveal)

“That’s when Beth… and Cassandra… and all the others met their end,” Alexia said as her voice grew to shaky to continue without taking a break.

“Just because I followed my instincts … and everything else led up to this. I keep thinking about it over and over again. About what would have happened if I had chosen differently, but it still doesn’t change the fact that their blood is still on my hand. Literally. I failed them.”

Her head hung low and avoided the gazes of her silent sisters in arms sitting next to her bed. She wanted to cry, to show them how much well-deserved pain and guilt she felt over the loss of people she and her visitors considered “family”. Yet, tears were no longer welling up in her sad eyes. Not after days of constant mourning and crying more than in the rest of her life combined.

She sat up in her sickbed, but kept her eyes locked onto her white duvet. Neither of her friends broke the eery silence, nor did she dare to further insult them with her excuses.

“Is that why you carry Beth’s sword?” Antigone eventually asked while addressing the blade next to the bed.

Alexia nodded silently and almost managed to conjure up some tears she knew she could no longer muster.

“To honour her memory. And continue her story. She loved to talk about such things. I think she would have appreciated that. I hope. That’s the least I can do,” she said cautiously.

Again, none of her three visitors replied and when she could no longer endure the silence, she was confronted with a reply she did not expect but certainly craved for.

“She would have,” Christa said without facing her. One of Beth’s closest friends and for quite some time in the past much more than just that.

Their former commander’s grey eyes lightened up with hope and finally made their stand against the other judging gazes.

“I won’t ever be able to make up for what I did. But I swear I will try,” Alexia said assertively.

“We know,” Lyssa interjected.

Lyssa was the new commander of the guard. A remarkable woman of honour and a kind spirit Alexia always looked up to- even when being mentored by a living legend like Cassandra was. A great leader and even better friend. But overall, a voice of authority within the royal guard, especially now when half laid dead in some makeshift holes at the beach.

She was the perfect replacement as commander of the royal guard and Alexia deep down knew: way more qualified than her in the first place.

“This is not your fault. Regardless if you will ever allow yourself to realise that,” she continued.

The middle-aged woman’s brown eyes felt piercing as much as they felt soothing, but the honesty in her words could not be denied.

“I can’t get their faces out of my head, Lyssa. Every time I close my eyes, I see them… they call out to me. Ask me why I got them killed. Especially Beth. The look on her face before… before I…”

Alexia couldn’t force herself to continue her thought and once more shielded her face from view and let her head hang low.

“Look at us,” Lyssa said but Alexia only shook her head.

“Look. At. Us.” She repeated but much more assertively.

Assertively enough for Alexia, against her better judgement, to make her oblige.

“Do you see any hate in our eyes?” she asked.

“No… that’s what I don’t understand. You should hate me,” Alexia muttered.

“Yet we don’t,” Antigone joined in and did the impossible and even formed a sad, but soft smile.

“But… why?”

“Because all we see is someone who tried to find the right solution with the information you were given. You did what you deemed right… and we all know you would never willingly want to get any of them hurt. You just followed your heart. That’s nothing to be ashamed or guilty about.”

Alexia took a deep breath. She wanted to believe her new commander so badly, but felt every fibre of her body reject these kind words.

“Do you also think that? Antigone? Christa?” she dared to ask, regardless of how repugnant she felt when asking for them to soothe her guilty consciousness.

“I do. Nothing changed between us, Lexi” Antigone said.

Christa on the other hand paused and had to gather her thoughts. The blonde bit her lip before taking a deep breath and speaking up.

“You never lied to me. That’s why I want to believe you, Lexi. But I understand why you feel that your suffering is deserved. I am no one to make that call, but nevertheless I demand you to keep your promise. For Beth and for the others. Live a life they would be proud about, that’s how you repay your debts,” the youngest of the three said in tone that couldn’t hide the pain she felt while ushering those words.

Understandably, it was Christa, who couldn’t see past the glaring fact that her former lover’s blood was on Alexia’s hand. Still, she offered something bayburt escort to Alexia that no amount of forgiveness could ever accomplish. Drive her forward with nothing but determination to make up for their deaths by being the paragon the royal guard was always meant to embody.

“I will, Christa. I swear. And if I should ever do the unforgiveable and forget about that promise. I expect you to make me remember,” Alexia said while meeting the blonde’s grey eyes for the first time since revealing that it was her who killed Beth.

Christa didn’t budge and stared her down. She, just like Alexia, was well aware what “make her remember” meant and that this was far from being just an ordinary promise. They just made a pact that would last until Alexia’s guilt was outweighed by her accomplishments… no matter how long that might take.

“I will,” she eventually said in a cold tone.

Lyssa smiled knowingly and nodded, while Antigone, looked in horror at the two sealing their pact without requiring any more words.

“Well said. It’s good to see that even after spending so much time with humans you haven’t changed one bit,” the new commander said with a proud smirk.

Her predecessor exhaled in what came closest to her smiling since being shot down by Cassandra days ago.

“I am afraid that’s not true. I have changed. In many more ways than I am even wanting to admit,” Alexia said and leaned back into her cushion.

“You mean Margaret?” Antigone asked with her characteristic curiosity.

“I… uhm… yeah… also because of her. Mostly because of her,” Alexia admitted with a blooming redness on her pale face.

The trio waited for a few moments, while she was silently fighting her redness but couldn’t hold it back at all. Nor could the others contain their curiosity or in Antigone’s case – that damn girlish grin.

“Come on, you don’t need to blush. We knew you two were always close. Like really close,” she said with a genuine smile on her face.

“I… never really thought about her … in such a way I mean. It was weird at first… but I … STOP SMILING ALREADY!” Alexia growled as loud and as menacingly as the comically red former commander possibly could.

“Let her talk, Antigone. This is one frightening battle for any soldier, especially if a king is involved,” Lyssa said but couldn’t tame her cheeky smirk either.

Alexia was collecting her thoughts, but that only made her brimming smile disappear by the second. She was about to confess what she felt whenever she was with Margaret and how that changed her life in so many ways. But after all she was still laying in her sick bed, surrounded by her former family and apologizing for how she was responsible for the deaths of so many of their sisters. This was a time of crisis – not just for herself, but also the royal guards and the whole kingdom.

“This might sound strange, but some days I thought I was at the top of the world. Like anything was possible, even something as unfathomable as finding happiness there, with humans and everything. Maybe even starting a family one day. But of course, it couldn’t last for long. And honestly, I can’t even attempt to predict where Margaret is heading…and what that might mean for me. She is king… and I am basically no one.”

“You aren’t no one to her, that’s for certain,” Lyssa said in an attempt to lift Alexia’s spirits.

“But is that enough in such times? I doubt that,” Alexia said and looked around mindlessly.

There wasn’t anything drawing her attention to grant her relief from her nagging doubts for even a moment.

“But forgive me for bringing the mood down. You came here to visit me, not to hear me lament over such things. This was selfish. I apologize,” Alexia said.

“We came to see how you were feeling. That included more than just checking that you are no longer bleeding,” Antigone said – with a quote that could have been Lyssa’s.

“Exactly. Such wounds are often deeper than bullets,” Christa joined in and Alexia once more felt guilty just by looking at her.

“Yeah. Often they are.”

Once again silence loomed over the room and this time before any witty remark could break the stalemate the door behind them flung open.

The trio turned around and immediately started to bow down.

“Your highness,” everyone cheered in one booming voice.

“No need for such formalities. Not here, my friends,” Margaret said with an unconvincing smile.

“Yes, my king,” Lyssa and Christa returned, which prompted Antigone to join as well.

The king let out a sigh of disappointment and walked up to them. Three guards that were more than just guards to her throughout most of her childhood. Nowadays they seemed to reduce themselves to being just that – guards. No longer friends, almost like being both was impossible to them and everyone else in the royal guard.

“Should I come back later? You must have so much to discuss and I don’t want to be the one interrupting bartın escort such a reunion,” Margaret tried to smile, but her muscles in her cheeks failed her.

“You aren’t interrupting anything, my liege,” Christa returned dutifully.

“I see,” the blonde king returned and accepted being nothing more than their “liege” from now on. “May I ask you to grant us a few minutes of privacy? I won’t take too long.”

“Of course, my king,” the trio returned, as painfully obedient as they possibly could.

“Thank you. Please close the door on your way out.”

“Yes, my king.”

“We will talk later, my sisters,” Alexia whimpered, noticing how Margaret’s disappointment shone through with every new reply.

“See you later, take care… and great to have you back,” Antigone returned. The only one who dared to show any remnants of emotions around the new king.

“How everyone seems to grow colder around me these days. That or trying to hide their lies behind warm words. No idea, which hurts more.”

“Maybe that is just the fate of all kings,” Alexia said.

“Please don’t ever call me that again,” Margaret growled and sat down next to Alexia’s bed.

“Was I interrupting anything? Please be honest,” she asked.

“No. We… let’s say things are different between us as well. And I can’t blame them. I would see myself in a different light too,” Alexia said.

Margaret leaned over in her dress, one she borrowed from the former queen and one that highlighted her more than alluring figure. Still, no excitement or arousal could spill over to the injured soldier. Not for now.

“How are you feeling, Lexi? What did the docs say?” Margaret asked.

“They said I will make it. Might take some time, but the human did his job well it seems.”

“Good… that’s good. Yeah… very good,” Margaret muttered thoughtfully.

“What’s wrong?” Alexia said and reached out to the blonde.

“I… was just worried that’s all. Glad you are feeling better.”

“You are still a bad liar. The crown surely didn’t change that,” the black-haired hermaphrodite mused.

“I guess it didn’t,” Margaret smirked as well and allowed her partner’s hand to pull her closer to the bed.

Alexia groaned when she offered some room for her now even bigger lover on the bed. Thankfully it was broad enough for two.

“Come. Lay down. I bet you didn’t rest a minute since your return,” she whispered and wanted to feel the blonde’s curvaceous body warm her own.

“Maybe you are right,” the new highking muttered and cautiously occupied the offered space next to Alexia – nevertheless her hugely endowed body spilled out nicely onto of the cushioned bed.

“It feels like ages when we just laid down, doesn’t it?” Alexia said with a grin, their faces just separated by a few inches.

“I missed it already,” Margaret said and didn’t let go of Alexia’s hand.

She even seemed to desperately hold on to it, while her eyes kept looking past her girlfriend and into the distance.

“Something is weighing on your heart, Maggie. What is it?”

The blonde tensed and took a deep breath before answering.

“I spoke to my mothers. They tried to explain to me what they were thinking. What their grand plan was. And I am not sure what to think anymore.”

“Were they right?”

Margaret shook her head but her gaze wasn’t one of determination.

“Still, I know they mean what they said and that they wouldn’t want to do me and you any harm. I almost wished they were just mad or evil, Lexi. But certain things they said don’t feel as wrong as others. Things I can never accept though … and don’t want to.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“No,” Margaret sighed.

Alexia only noticed she didn’t take any breaths when she was almost gasping for air. It was logical for Margaret to speak to her mothers. To hear that so-called “explanation” and whatever the two queens got on their mind. But hearing Margaret speak about things she could never accept, regardless of how limitless the possibilities of such notions could be, she immediately thought about what she mentioned earlier with her friends.

And hearing Margaret’s reluctance to even speak about it further cemented her growing doubts about what the future might hold for the two. Yet, she didn’t dare to ask directly.

“I… what will you do… about those things?” Alexia asked timidly and like her blonde lover lowered her gaze.

“Honestly. I got no idea. I will have to think about it… and maybe find a way I can live with myself.”

The busty blonde laid stiff and noticeably tense next to Alexia, with her fingers still clamming tightly around the wounded soldier’s.

“I am sure… you will find the best way, you always do…” Alexia gasped and imagined that this “way” wouldn’t include being with her any longer. A truly devastating thought.

“Can we talk about something else please? I want to forget the whole world beyond this bed for a ığdır escort few minutes. Like back there… when there was us. A waitress and a bouncer,” Margaret said and looked like she was on the verge of crying, but nevertheless smiled.

“Of course, my love,” Alexia said and pulled the blonde closer until their bosoms met.

Both didn’t exchange any words for minutes and just silently stared into each other’s eyes while their bodies warmed one another. Alexia’s pounding in her chest subsided the longer she just laid next to her love, without wasting one thought on anything beyond this bed, just like she was asked.

“You have grown again. Don’t even think I didn’t notice,” she mused and made the blonde grin as well.

“I wondered when you’d mention that,” Margaret grinned – on the verge of smiling properly.

“Do you really think I am missing out on an opportunity to praise my huge girlfriend? No bullet in this world can stop me from doing that,” Alexia said.

Margaret chuckled at first and broke into laughter after a few moments of fighting the urge to laugh over something this serious.

“Sometimes you got a twisted sense of humour, you know that?” the king smirked and leaned in.

“Sometimes…but it makes you smile. That’s all that matters.”

There was a time to comment on what was deemed “twisted” or not, but surely not when laying to someone this alluring and still blossoming.

Alexia led their combined hands just a bit lower and onto the blonde’s soft middle and mere inches above her navel.

“Lexi… I…didn’t…” Margaret muttered but couldn’t force herself to pull her fingers away.

She craved to be touched, now more than ever. Especially after the last few days and even more frustrating nights.

The wounded guard knowingly smiled when she felt the more than sizable bulge lifting the king’s borrowed dress and push into her thigh.

“Well, aren’t you a bit quick to the draw today?” Alexia teased, although with a fair share of surprise.

Margaret usually was able to go on for a lot more cuddling and foreplay before she got all horny, this time though she seemed unable to contain herself after even just one teasing move.

“Yeah… I…” Margaret gasped and her body took over.

The wrist thick member kept fiercely pushing into Alexia’s side and grew heavier and meatier by the second as it rose- dangerously close to the blooded wound.

“Maggie. I… should not… you know the doctors said I can’t … right now,” Alexia drooled, clearly aroused by seeing just how much her former student was gaining – and how fast.

She was not just massively endowed, she had to be in heat and sported a sizable erection within literal seconds.

“I… know. I am sorry,” Margaret winced and turned to the side.

Her throbbing dick lifted her by now tight-fitting dress with an obscene bulge as it looked adamant to salute to the skies in all its glory.

“No need to be sorry, my love. I… would love to … really,” Alexia said and kept her eyes fixated on the literal pillar of meat throbbing a few feet over her as it displayed its full glory. “You must be really pent up…”

“You got no idea. It’s much worse when I try to sleep. Barely slept an hour last night,” Margaret sighed.

“Couldn’t you just… you know… stroke it really good?” Alexia asked with a perked eyebrow. “I know growth spurts can mess with your hormones, which means you really have to take care of your needs… especially now when… I can’t help.”

“Trust me, I tried. Both hands, one hand. It doesn’t matter. I… well… maybe eventually. But right now, it’s a bit tiresome not gonna lie.”

“Yeah… can’t imagine running around with something … well, THIS big. And horny all the time,” Alexia said. “Should I give it a try?”

“I doubt that would be enough…” Margaret sighed and rolled her eyes. “Imagine what I would have said a few years ago, if you’ve told me that I would be complaining about such things?” Margaret chuckled and tilted her head to face her lover once more.

“Tell you what? That you are too horny to get rid of your I don’t know 4-foot dick?” Alexia chuckled.

“Not four feet yet, but not too much off either,” Margaret teased.

“Should I really not give it a try? I see it in your eyes, you crave it… and I wouldn’t mind offering a helping hand,” Alexia said with a growing smile.

The blonde king pondered on that option for a few seconds and once looked over to the door. No guard would dare to enter as long as she was in anyways. But it still would only make it worse.

“I know you would. But trust me I tried A LOT. A pair of hands is not enough at this point I am afraid. But I will eventually push myself over the edge, just have to wait a bit longer I guess.”

The princess’ truly royal boner didn’t go down easily. It throbbed and surged back to life a few times before eventually going down for good. Only for it to surely return at night – with full force.

“Finally,” Margaret sighed after minutes of trying to think of anything remotely arousing.

“You really have to take care of that, Maggie. I mean… I love seeing you huge and all, but I doubt the royal court would fancy it as much as me.”

“Well, thankfully I don’t think of sexy things around them as often like when I am around you,” Margaret grinned.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

“Jackson, why’d you bring us to Pivot? What about Orbital Academy?” Preston reached across Missy and flicked the cruiser’s autopilot off, beginning to manually pilot their cruiser in line with the other squadmates.

“Rookie Preston, please cut the comm chatter, we wouldn’t want to crowd Orbital Pivot’s comm channels,” Jackson’s voice crackled into the small space. The message was clear; *We’re being listened to. I can either trust Jackson or come up with my own plan.* Preston and Missy exchanged looks, and she nodded, her brown ringlets bouncing with the motion. Preston shrugged. He probably would’ve trusted Jackson on his own, but he trusted Missy at his core. Pulling up the fine-navigation controls, he prepared to land the craft.

Although he had seen it before a handful of times, this was the first time he was actually landing a ship in the hangar bay. Orbital Pivot’s hangar was much larger that Orbital Academy’s, containing expanded bays to allow Pivot to supply ships to every Orbital in the orbit. Although it was easier for Preston to move the ship in, the smooth and practiced action was unsettling. *It feels wrong somehow.* The ship settled down behind Alex’s heavy cruiser, and Preston did his checks of the gauges without thinking about it. It wasn’t until the canopy swung upward that Preston realized how many people crowded the large hangar bay. The normal scrub teams were moving in to hook up fueling lines and coolant cells, but there were more small groups scattered throughout the hangar. Jackson was already climbing down from his cruiser at the front of the line of ships, and the largest of the groups were waiting for him. Preston helped Missy down and they walked forward to join their squadmate, just as the man in front of the group spoke.

“Good evening Rookies. I’m General Hunter, and I’m in charge of this orbital. I checked over the flight logs before I came down, and I wasn’t informed of any ships scheduled to dock today.” The General was tall and muscled, with salt-and-pepper hair in a short buzzcut. Despite his slightly suspicious tone, his stare seemed focused and attentive rather than aggressive. *He’s a military type,* Preston decided, hoping Jackson had also picked up on the vibe, *strict protocol, law and order type.*

“We’re unscheduled sir,” Jackson answered for the group as Li, Aimee, Marcus and Alex joined them, “we’ve just returned from the surface. From a rescue mission, in fact, to retrieve our squaddies that were left behind on a planetary. We managed to save all but two.” The General raised an eyebrow, while behind him two of his men immediately began typing into their screens.

“I haven’t ever heard of a rescue mission being undertaken, much less successfully,” he commented, holding out a hand, “nor was I aware Academy was sending rookies down to the surface these days.” One of the men behind him placed his screen into the General’s waiting hand, which he glanced at briefly before returning it, “I see the Planetary authorized, but not the rescue mission.”

“It was…unauthorized,” Jackson admitted, “but we have reason to believe there are members of Academy who didn’t want us to live through the Planetary. That’s also why we landed on Pivot rather than Academy”

The General looked back and forth between the faces of the squadmates, his face neutral. The silence stretched, and Preston noticed suddenly how many of the people around the General were carrying heavy assault rifles and non-lethal riot pistols. His view on the scene suddenly shifted. *Fuck…we aren’t a group of rookies facing a slap on the wrist here… we could be in as much trouble here as on the planetary.* He took another, more specific headcount now, noting the composition of the group in front of them. Flanking General Hunter were his two henchmen with the screens, but the four men and women surrounding them were heavily armed and armored. Preston hadn’t ever been in a situation where someone might view him as an adult threat, not just a mischievous child. His hands were at his sides, and he moved his thumb subtly to make sure the pistol Missy had given him was still stuck in the waistband of his loose pants.

“Why don’t you keep your hand away from that weapon, son,” the General said quietly, without turning his head, “it’ll make this conversation a little easier I think.” The guards with weapons shifted at his words, raising weapons carefully but quickly, and Preston put his hands up slowly.

“General,” the man on Hunter’s left handed him the screen, “it’s General Auspus from Orbital Academy for you sir.” Preston’s stomach clenched.

“Yes,” General Hunder murmured, “I thought he might want to talk to me.”

“General Auspus,” Hunter held the screen in front of his face with his left hand. Missy’s fingers dug into Preston’s arm as their General’s calm voice came from the screen.

“Hello General Hunter. I understand some of my rookies landed in your hangar bay a few minutes ago.”

“They certainly did Auspus, we have them in the kütahya escort brig right now,” General Hunter fixed them with a stare as if challenging any of them to say a word, “anything I should know about them?”

“I’m glad you took that action. Keeping them isolated is certainly the best option to keep Orbital Pivot safe.They’re quite a dangerous bunch.”

“Are they now?” General Hunter’s expression didn’t change, but Preston noted with concern that his right hand moved casually to the butt of his pistol.

“We aren’t quite sure what their end goal is, but we suspect they intend to form a rebellion against the Orbit.” Preston ground his teeth at the smooth calm with which Auspus mangled the truth, “they dipped into the fog after they left, and we tracked their progress to Pivot, so whatever their story, it will involve the deception that they visited the planet.”

“But that’s a lie, of course?” General Hunter moved as he asked, his eyes sweeping across the group of rookies as he stepped in among them, “they came straight from Academy to Pivot?”

“Of course,” Auspus’ voice contained just the right amount of annoyance to sell the story. Out of the corner of his eye Preston saw Missy open her mouth, and he grabbed her hand and squeezed. She stayed silent, with a look of barely concealed rage on her face, as the General stopped directly in front of Preston.

“Hmm.” General Hunter said noncommittally, and Preston had to force himself not to move as the aged man reached out and grabbed him by the arm. “You’ve given me a lot to think about General Auspus,” General Hunter mused aloud, rubbing the material of Preston’s shirt between calloused fingers.

*The Terrans’ prison clothes!* Preston realized with a start, looking down at the rough and coarse clothes he was wearing, *the Orbitals don’t have material like this, and Auspus doesn’t know the Terrans captured us!*

Although General Hunter’s expression never changed, his hand moved off of his sidearm as he made his way back to the front of the rookies, speaking into the screen.

“Aren’t your rookie squads usually made up of nine rookies and a Captain? There are only four rookies here.”

Preston glanced at his squadmates. *Missy and I, Jackson, Alex, Marcus, Li, Aimee…* he counted before the realization hit him, *it’s a test. He’s only counting the ones in Academy flightsuits…the ones Auspus knows made it.*

“Yes General Hunter, that’s correct,” Auspus didn’t hesitate for a moment, “their Captain wasn’t involved in their little rebellion, thankfully, and we were able to safely capture the remaining five of their group before they took off. They’re safely detained here in Academy.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” a hint of expression had finally appeared on General Hunter’s face as he surveyed the seven squaddies, an unforgiving hardness. Preston found it encouraging.

“When will you be able to ship them back to the Academy for processing?” Auspus’ question was casual.

“I’ll have to square things away here first,” General Hunter answered noncommittally, “but I’ll get back to you.” He closed the screen and passed it back to his henchman.

“So…” the General seemed to be mulling things over in his head, “I’m assuming when you said “someone in power, you were referring to your captain and your general?”

“Just the General, sir,” Jackson replied, “I’m pretty sure the Captain wasn’t involved.”

“Well now, isn’t this problematic?” The General ran a hand through the stubble on his head and blew out a breath. “If I’m following the letter of the Orbit’s law I’d ship you all back in a containment cell before the end of the day.” Preston felt the urge to reach for his gun again, but he restrained himself. *Shooting people won’t help our case.*

“On the other hand, it’s clear that there’s more going on here than it seems,” General Hunter growled, “your story might be a lie, might now, but it’s clear that General Auspus’ certainly is.” Hunter stroked his chin for a few more moments.

“I’m not throwing you back to Auspus before I’ve had the chance to think about this,” he said finally, “But I’m not about to give you full run of the orbital either. I’m confining you to cells, and then I’m going to give a long hard think, then I’ll talk to a few of you. Does that seem fair?”

“Very fair, sir,” Jackson said respectfully. Preston let the guards remove the gun from his waistband before he spoke.

“General, some of us have been separated from loved ones for quite some time. If you would be so kind, if we could be locked in cells together…”

“I don’t like the idea of you all in the same place, able to plot and scheme,” the General shook his head, “three of you to a cell, max.” He made a motion, and Preston found himself being escorted down the long hangarbay. Missy clung to his arm, and he put a hand around her waist protectively, even though he knew the guards wouldn’t be rough. He had grown up on Orbital malatya escort Pivot; roughness wasn’t their way.

It was good to be back on Pivot. It felt like a lifetime ago since he had last walked the long hallways, and the tiny luxuries he had grown up with seemed so much more vivid now that he was back. The guards and squaddies’ footfalls were muffled by carpeting, and the walls were rich colors instead of the bare metal of the Academy. Where the cold was an ever-constant hardship on Orbital Academy, here the air was warm and pleasant. Preston may have been worried about his future and the fate of his squadmates, but in the meantime it didn’t hurt to enjoy the little things he had left behind.

“First cell,” one of the guards thumbed a keypad to open the door and stood to one side, “you heard the General, three max.”

“Will you two be alright on your own?” Jackson asked quietly. Preston nodded,

“Orbital Pivot treats their prisoners alright,” he said, “we’ll all be fine until the General makes a decision. And even then, General Hunter isn’t the type to surprise you. We’ll know what will happen to us as soon as he comes to a decision.”

Preston and Missy stepped inside of the dark cell, and the door closed behind them, hissing as the room was hermetically sealed.

“Now all we have to do is wait,” Preston let go of Missy and leaned against the door, “hopefully we won’t have to wait for more than a day or two, the General probably has a lot that he needs to take care of- what’s wrong?” For the first time he noticed the dumbfounded expression on Missy’s face, as the soft lights in the room slowly rose.

“THIS is Pivot’s *prison*?” she asked. Preston glanced around the room. It was about the size of the entire Academy barracks that housed his nine-man squad, although there was only one bed in the corner. *Queen-sized,* Preston noted, *although the cells are probably only set up for one prisoner, so that’s not intended as a hardship.* A fire crackled in the fireplace on one wall, and on another a huge window gave a picturesque view of the moon that lazily followed the Orbital’s progress around the planet. His eyes moved from the high ceiling to the plush carpet on the floor, and he finally shrugged,

“Well, yea I suppose it’s a little comfy compared to the Academy-“

“A *little* comfy?” Missy hesitantly stepped into the room, as if she would break something simply by moving, “this is the most luxurious room I’ve ever been in. Ever. In my entire life. how is this…what?” She spluttered.

“Okay, sure it’s alright,” Preston was starting to grow uncomfortable, “but we’ve been on Orbital Academy for five months Missy, anything would seem luxurious to us…” he trailed off at the look Missy was giving him.

“Just how comfortable was your life before coming to the Academy Preston? If this,” she made a sweeping motion around her, “is Pivot’s definition of the barest necessities.”

“It was…fine. It was okay,” Preston mumbled. He didn’t like the direction this conversation was going, “I mean it was better than this but…” Defensiveness gave his words more of an edge than he meant them to have, “why is it such a big deal? We’re all squaddies no matter where we came from, aren’t we? And you and I, we’re partners who love each other, aren’t we? Who cares about what our childhood was like? What does it matter?”

“It matters when I find out my boyfriend was a spoiled rich kid,” Missy muttered, looking around her. Preston reddened, but he didn’t respond. *We don’t need to be arguing right now, especially not about something as trivial as this.* Instead he turned to the wide window and stared at the moon that drifted in the distance. After a few moments Missy joined him, wrapping slender arms around his waist.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “you’re right, it doesn’t change anything about you. Or us.”

“Look at it this way,” Preston said dryly, “whatever comforts I might’ve had as a child, they make it that much harder to adjust to life at the Academy.”

“Oh you poor thing!” Missy gasped, and Preston grinned at her tone. He couldn’t see her face, but he could tell she was about to tease him. “You mean you’re forced to sleep in a bed with only *one pillow*?”

“Now that’s not fair-” Preston began, but Missy turned his head to look at the prison bed in the corner. There were four plump pillows on the heavy coverlet. Preston scowled as Missy burst into peals of laughter.

“Well at the very least we’ll be able to enjoy ourselves while the General is thinking about what to do with us,” Preston stepped over to the bed and threw himself backward on it. The coverlet enveloped him as he stared at the ceiling. Missy settled next to him and laying her head on his chest.

“Do you think he’ll believe us?” Missy asked. Preston played with her brown curls as he considered the question.

“I’ve always heard Hunter was cool and levelheaded,” he said finally, “and Auspus batman escort dug himself a pretty big hole with his lies. We’ve got the crystal, so if he believes us in the slightest we can have his help in deciphering what he’s trying to hide.”

“I hate him.” Missy spoke quietly, but her voice was venomous. “We weren’t hurting anyone, we weren’t doing anything, and he tried to break us apart, tried to kill you.” The anger in her voice was unlike her, and Preston frowned to hear it. He tried his standard tactic of switching her attention; telling a dirty joke.

“Well, I wasn’t hurting anything, but I was definitely doing someone,” he said, giving a lock of her hair an affectionate tug. He expected a gentle smack on the stomach, but instead Missy just sighed and ran her hand up and down his leg.

“You know…” Missy said, “…I do owe you for back in the cruiser.” Preston bit back a response. He had come far enough to know that he *shouldn’t* agree, that he shouldn’t think of sex as owing each other. He hoped someday he wouldn’t think it, but in the meantime he could at least avoid saying it.

“If you like,” he shrugged, “it’s not like you have to.”

“Preston,” Missy turned, her face inches away from his, “I thought you were dead. I thought I’d never see you again. You told me you loved me an hour ago. You gave me an amazing…a lot of fun in the cruiser.”

“You still can’t talk about sex without blushing unless we are in the middle of having sex,” Preston chuckled. Missy was indeed blushing, her whole face red, but she looked resolute. When she didn’t move for a few moments, Preston cocked his head to one side. It was somehow different this time, as if Missy were processing emotions she didn’t normally have to deal with. When she spoke she was quiet, but there was an unsettling steel to it that Preston hadn’t heard before.

“Fine,” she said, and when she looked straight into Preston’s eyes with a steady gaze, her blush was gone. *What just happened? Did I go too far?*

“Listen, Missy, I didn’t mean-“

“Shut up. You want to hear me talk straight, fine. I thought you were dead,” she listed on her fingers, still holding his gaze, “I thought I’d never see you again. You told me you loved me. And on top of all of that, I haven’t been fucked in a week. You made me cum, hard, in that cruiser, when I really needed to cum. Now I’m going to return the favor.” She grabbed the front of his shirt and leaned in closer, dropping her voice to a whisper, “and I’m not going to stop at just one. I’m going to fuck you, Preston, until you are physically incapable of having another orgasm, and then I’m going to fuck you one more time.”

“I…um” Preston stammered. This was like their first time all over again, she was acting completely out of character from the petite innocent Missy that he was used to, and he was both confused and incredibly turned on.

“No stammering,” Missy leaned back, “the first time we’re going to do it like this. You’re the big confident rich kid, and I’m just a naive little rookie from Orbital Academy.” The innocence was back, exaggerated in all the right ways. Missy looked up through her lashes at him with the smallest of pouts, leaning back far enough that the stomach of her flightsuit made a pleasant arch up to her breasts. “So what exactly are you going to do to me, big bad rich boy?” She asked. Preston leaned forward, grabbing a handful of her curls in one hand as he fumbled for the sealing tab on her flightsuit with the other. “Oh Preston, what are you doing?” Missy said in a shocked voice, the effect somewhat ruined by the grin on her face. Preston slid the sealing tab down with a single quick motion, planting a kiss between her breasts before answering.

“I’m going to fuck you senseless you silly girl,” he grinned right back, yanking her suit off of her shoulders. Smiling at the way she gasped, Preston looked his girlfriend over. On the Academy the constant cold would make her nipples harden right away, but Orbital Pivot was kept warm enough that he was deprived of that sight. Even so, he couldn’t help but admire Missy’s body as she shrugged her arms out of the sleeves of the flightsuit, letting it slip down to her hips.

“But Preston, how will you do that with your clothes on?” Missy asked putting a finger to her lips. Preston rolled his eyes at the overblown innocent act, but even knowing it was exaggerated, his cock hardened against the soft material of his Terran prison clothes.

He used the firm grip on her hair to pull Missy down next to him on the bed, standing and yanking his shirt off. She watched him with heavily lidded eyes, taking in his every motion as he next stripped out of his pants.

“You are entirely overdressed,” Preston said huskily, and Missy obligingly lifted her rear and shifted her legs out of the flightsuit, kicking it onto the bed. She sprawled on the bedcovers in front of him, pale skin against white coverlet, her pink nipples and the dark patch of hair between her legs the only contrast.

Preston grabbed her ankles and yanked her towards the edge of the bed until her butt hung half-off of it. Missy squeaked, but Preston held her legs behind the knees as he knelt between them. She was so wet that he could see the juices on her pink pussy, and he enjoyed the sight for a moment before he gently licked it clean.

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*You’ve all been waiting for this, and I’ve cut this post a little shorter than others for reasons you’ll understand soon. Enjoy!*

Chapter 17

The night passes in a blur of dreams, most of them you feel were probably erotic as you wake up in your bed. You realise you’ve slept in your dress, a mix of disappointment and appreciation runs through you as you understand Terenim must have put you to bed. Without so much as taking off your clothes. Your hands tentatively move to your breasts and sex and find them quite sensitive, eliciting a moan from you.

You smell food and turn your head to the nightstand on which a tray rests, food piled on top of it; enough to sate your hunger. You eat quickly, the events of yesterday having drained you of nutrients and energy. As you begin to feel better, your focus widens to take in sounds, smells and such around you. Eventually you hear the sounds of struggling, growling, and the clanging of metal upon metal.

For half a second you fear some kind of attack, but instructions being shouted by what sound like goblin sergeants informs you of what you’re listening to. Training. You do your best to wash up, impatient to get up to the seventh floor. Seventh floor? How… Has my hearing gotten even better? You theorise that your transformation yesterday could have further improved your capabilities since there’s no way goblins could be training down here, but don’t spend too much time on the subject. You find another set of clothing in the drawers in your room, a sort of light shirt and pants, tight but very elastic just like the dress.

Made from the same silk as your previous garment, they allow you to move quickly through the hallway until you reach the door to the staircase. You hesitate in front of it, not only because you might be leaving your lord asleep in his room without so much as a greeting, but also because you do not know how to open the door itself.

You remember that breakfast in your room is not a normal thing, so he must be awake and have organised for it to be delivered. That issue cleared up, you turn back to the door and put a hand on it pensively. How could I… You feel a shift in the energy holding the door closed and it swings open. Your smile at Terenim’s thoughtfulness. These gateways are designed to keep anyone without permission from opening them, which means he must have added you to that list beforehand. It seems small and insignificant, but this action shows that he trusts you to roam his dungeon, his very home without supervision.

You head up the stairs and ignore the treasure room entirely, instead hurrying upwards to the seventh floor. Your heartbeat increases slightly as your long slender legs take the steps two by two. You grin to yourself at the thought of combat and burst through the doors, taking not of the surprising ‘bloodlust’ you feel.

You are greeted by the sight of hundreds, if not thousands of goblins and their officers training. Most of them are practicing general military tactics, manoeuvers and such, but other higher ranking creatures are having some sort of tournament.

The smell of sweat and pheromones given out by the countless active bodies hits you like a maramen charge, and your knees weaken for a moment as heat rushes into your cunt and breasts. Your skin tingles all over as you pant and eventually calm down; images of being used by each and every creature here flashing through your mind. You can just imagine the hordes of goblins turning towards you and overpowering you with numbers; their members hardening all around you artvin escort as the first of them forces his shaft between your-

You are brought back to reality by a tug on your clothes and look down to see the goblin from before. The one which had handed you a handkerchief to clean your nails and fingers from the fight with Orgal the troll. You blush, as if he could tell what you were thinking about, before greeting him.

He responds with a few signs and gestures, communicating that he has not learned to speak your language yet. You do your best to dumb down your speech and gesture more to communicate. He informs you of where lord Terenim is, and leads you to it. You ask him his name as you walk through the throngs of soldiers, aware and strangely satisfied by the wave of erections you are causing as their eyes devour your body. He responds by pointing to one of the large pillars in the cavern, where a stalagmite and stalactite met eons ago.

“Pillar?”

He makes a chopping motion down the middle of his arm.

“Pil?”

He grins and nods happily. Just as you’re about to try and talk to him some more about where the name comes from, the crowd of soldiers thins out and stops near an area of the cave set up like a basic arena. A marge crescent-moon shaped slab of stone rises gradually from its centre, interrupted by long slabs of stone used as seats. At the bottom is a ring about thirty steps in diameter, covered in a thin layer of powder; possibly some sand-like element. Many weapons hang from stands, positioned to the sides of the bleachers along with armour, and dozens of powerful officers are sat watching the arena. They’re sweaty, some of them bloody, but none of them seem to care about their wounds or filthiness, instead wide eyed and transfixed by what is going on in the ring. Between you and the ring stands a large crowd of cheering goblins and other officers ranked too low to be on the bleachers. This throng of bodies is blocking your view of the event.

You make your way closer, and when you reach the edge of the circle you let out a gasp. That sweet scent can only be your lord’s and it is intense. You can’t bear it and your legs very nearly give out. You look into the arena with wide, lustful eyes and with your tongue running over your lips.

What awaits you inside the arena first causes confusion, followed by shock, and finally awe. Two of them? Of him? There in the circle, their bodies clashing against one another, are two Terenims. Every time their bodies collide the air pulses and cracks, their power and speed causing shockwaves. They move too fast to follow in detail, and every so often will blink in and out of existence for everyone but you. You can see them jumping across the entire cave, using the pillars to push off of or hanging from the ceiling to strike at each other.

You will your eyes to focus on their auras rather than the physical aspects of their bodies. A quick look into their magical energies shows you that one of them has a heavily diluted energy, and you imagine it could be some sort of clone; albeit a very convincing one since he seemed to be giving the original quite the workout. Sitting there on the floor with your entire body shivering at the scents and sight, you take all this in in awe until they suddenly stop. The clone disappears like ash being blown away by wind until nothing is left, and Terenim walks towards you. His sweat drips off of his body, sliding down his chest and gathering in the waistband of his pants, just above his crotch.

Even soft aydın escort you can see his member through his pants if you focus, and boy are you focused in that moment. He stops, standing in front of you with his bulge at your eye level.

“Morning, Shyvana my dear. Care to test your strength?”

You swallow hard, tearing your eyes from his crotch to look into his. You slowly but steadily get up and straighten. Your pupils dilate and your heart pounds harder as you nod, following him into the ring. You’re hesitant to take him on after he’s already tired out, not wanting to hurt him. You frown, reluctant to begin until the gong you noticed on the side of the arena is sounded, and he springs into action.

He grins as you barely block the first sweeping kick, and your mind kicks into gear immediately. Even worn out your lord seems overwhelmingly powerful, and your brain shifts with your body into a combat state of mind.

After blocking with such difficulty you move back, only to have to deflect three strikes from his fists. This leaves you with an opportunity, and you use your tail. It swings towards his ribs and nearly strikes true. He avoids the collision by vaulting over you and sending his heel swinging towards the back of your head like a pendulum. You grunt and summon your wings in a flash. You hadn’t realised they had disappeared during the night, but now they nearly cave from the pressure of his blow. He lands, still behind you, and you whirl around to meet his next offensive.

Instead of the expected arms and legs, you see him rush forward and tackle you. Your feet leave the ground and you brace for the impact on your back. It never comes, and you quickly come to the realisation that he’s flying through the cavern with you in tow. Blows are exchanged at minimal range, short and sharp gestures, no movement is wasted as you each block and deviate the other’s strikes expertly. Just as you feel a distance between you grow, you are ready to shift your centre of gravity and push yourself away from his grasp… But everything goes dark.

A moment later, you slam into your bedroom wall with your wrists pinned against them. Subconsciously you figure out that he must have flown you through the seventh floor doorway with that veil spell activated, and sent both of you barrelling into your room. His lips push against yours voraciously, dominating yours. You’re surprised but immediately retaliate in kind, your lips putting up a fight.

He pushes his body against yours, pinning you further as his tongue slips into your mouth. You grunt and send a blast of magic outwards, sending him to the floor. You pounce onto him and grab handfuls of his hair as you kiss him once more. Both of you are snarling just as much as you’re moaning, and occasionally bite at the other’s lips passionately. He pushes back against the wooden floorboards with his wings, so hard the both of you are sent flying into the ceiling.

His fingers and toes pierce the flat surface and he grips onto it, kissing you the entire time. His lips scrape against your neck and you let out a powerful moan. You sweep his limbs off of the ceiling as you feel his member press against your sex, and both of you land heavily on your bed. You pin his arms next to his head, and to your pleasant surprise he doesn’t fight back too hard. Leaning in close to his chest, your teeth snag his clothes and you let magic flow through them carefully.

The energy you release travels through his clothes, fast and powerful, and the silks disintegrate immediately. With balıkesir escort nothing to hold it back, his cock springs up and roughly smacks into your clit through your pants. Your eyes go wide and your legs tense as you barely manage to stave off your climax. The half-scream, half-moan you let out edges him on and he thrusts his hips upwards, the curve of his member pushing into your cunt.

You gasp. “Haaah! Let me… take my… clothe-“

Before you can finish he rolls his body to the side and you end up on your back. Your eyes are full of lust as you attempt to take your clothes off. He rips your top away from your chest and his lips latch onto a nipple, furiously licking, sucking and biting the sensitive tip. You breathe in deep through your nose, and the scent of his arousal multiplies the pleasure you feel; your pussy shakes and coils, needing, begging for the upcoming climax.

You feel him move between your legs, and wait for him to shred your pants to get at your tight cunt, but squeal out in surprise when you feel his cockhead push against your outer lips… Through the pants.

You scream out in pleasure and surprise, looking down between your thighs to see his monstrous cock slowly piercing into you, stretching the silk as it follows his member inside. Your screams get louder at the feeling, your eyes out of focus as you can feel the surprisingly flexible silk beginning to rip apart inside you. It scrapes against your clit and outer lips at the same time as his head pushes into your depths.

He’s only a few inches in, and the clothes will stretch no more. You’re crying bloody murder at the incredible feeling ripping through your body. Finally, with one final push, he shoves his entire length into you to the hilt; you feel the silk rip completely inside your coiling cunt, just as your eyes roll back into your skull. Your pussy shakes and shivers as a humongous climax accompanies his violation of your body.

You can’t breathe, you can’t think, all you can feel is your master inside of you, his massive cock claiming you as his. You can feel his shaft pump in and out of you, his muscles flexing and tensing rhythmically. He’s like an animal, and your body reacts in kind. You moan and mewl, incoherent babbling escaping your mouth as he grabs your hips to pound into you harder. Your pussy needs no time to adjust, to stretch to fit his enormous cock inside you. It’s as if you were made for him to use this way.

Your nails dig into his chest, and he reacts by fucking you into the mattress with even greater force. You scream and gyrate your hips even more, scraping your fingers down his abdomen.

After the third… eighth… or was it five…? orgasms, you’re about to lose consciousness, but you force yourself to stay awake. You want to be conscious when your master rewards you with a nice thick load of his potent seed. You want to feel him truly claim you as his property.

Finally, you feel his pendulous balls tighten and they brush against your tight little asshole in just the right way. You cum both from that light touch and the feeling of the volcano of cum erupting inside of you. His seed, like magma, burns your insides as it bursts forth deep into your pussy. You scream a final time and he pulls out of you once you’re full, cum spurting out of your pussy due to the pressure inside. He aims his powerful cock towards you and sprays your body with his cum. The thick white liquid covers your chest, your hips, and your face; you moan and twitch at the feeling, trying but failing to move as he covers you with his load, spurt after spurt shooting onto you. You are just about to lick your lips and have a taste, but you lose consciousness.

The last thing you see are his hungry, primal, but loving eyes staring deep into yours. Your impromptu nap is filled with thoughts of those eyes, so filled with emotion and changing their colour as you fall deeper into unconsciousness.

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